A dreaded sunny day, so I'll meet you at the Cemetery gates...
Earlier this week, I found out that a good friend from college passed away. John was a year ahead of me, and we kind of lost touch after he graduated. In the olden days before social media, dumb crap like that happened all the time. But when the entire world joined facebook, he friended me and we sort of blipped at each other via mentions and status updates. I ran into a mutual friend (Liz) one day that happened to be his wedding day, as she was off to rent a car to drive to it. Other than that, I don't think I saw him hardly at all after he left Albany.
Then on the way to work this week I see note via facebook that he had lost his battle with lymphoma. He left behind a wife and seven-month-old son. I didn't even know he was sick. Liz told me that he had only been sick for a few months, that it progressed quickly and he had died of heart failure. (They started out and stayed close, kind of like how Carly & I were from the jump.)
John was one of the sweetest guys I knew in college. He was proof that you could be someone no one wanted to mess with but still be one of the most caring, generous friends a person could hope to have. I was part of a group that spent lots of happy nights in the apartment he had in a shabby, run-down building on the edge of Washington Park called The Willet. So many great parties, and nights spent just hanging out were spent in that place. Granted, I wasn't as close to him as some others were (thanks again, social anxiety - that was during the era where I desperately wanted to allow myself to get close to people but found it really difficult to do so), but he always made me feel like I mattered, and deserved to be included, and that my thoughts and opinions were valid and interesting. I hope I made him feel that way at least once.
I don't think I'm going to go to the memorial. I agree with what a different friend said about it - I'd feel like an interloper. It'd been too long since we'd been in real contact, and I know so little about what was going on with him. It makes me sad. But maybe some people are only meant to be in your life a short while. I don't know. But he was a great guy, and will be missed. As I said on facebook, 20 year old me was inconsolable when she found out the news.
Then on the way to work this week I see note via facebook that he had lost his battle with lymphoma. He left behind a wife and seven-month-old son. I didn't even know he was sick. Liz told me that he had only been sick for a few months, that it progressed quickly and he had died of heart failure. (They started out and stayed close, kind of like how Carly & I were from the jump.)
John was one of the sweetest guys I knew in college. He was proof that you could be someone no one wanted to mess with but still be one of the most caring, generous friends a person could hope to have. I was part of a group that spent lots of happy nights in the apartment he had in a shabby, run-down building on the edge of Washington Park called The Willet. So many great parties, and nights spent just hanging out were spent in that place. Granted, I wasn't as close to him as some others were (thanks again, social anxiety - that was during the era where I desperately wanted to allow myself to get close to people but found it really difficult to do so), but he always made me feel like I mattered, and deserved to be included, and that my thoughts and opinions were valid and interesting. I hope I made him feel that way at least once.
I don't think I'm going to go to the memorial. I agree with what a different friend said about it - I'd feel like an interloper. It'd been too long since we'd been in real contact, and I know so little about what was going on with him. It makes me sad. But maybe some people are only meant to be in your life a short while. I don't know. But he was a great guy, and will be missed. As I said on facebook, 20 year old me was inconsolable when she found out the news.