Call me sentimental, but I have just returned from Florida to find out that two of my friends from 'back in the day' passed away while I was down there. I wished someone would have e-mailed or called me before I got home. I know that it's no one's responsibility to do so, but just out of courtesy, I would have done the same for them. The group of us that hung around together keeps getting smaller. Whenever I lose a friend or former friend, I reflect back to when we were young and the things that we did as a group or just together. I miss those guys and gals a lot and as I get older, I miss them even more.
One thing is for certain, they may be gone, but not the memories. They hang on forever. The one fellow that just passed away played baseball for a competing team when we played as kids. We lived about 5 miles apart in different small towns, but went to the same high school. As my wife and I were driving around yesterday running errands, she asked me what was I thinking about. I told her I was thinking about the one fellow that just died and we had played in a championship game one summer day. He was the other team's pitcher and I caught for our team. I told my wife that I hated to admit it, but I was known as a clutch hitter, until that day. He struck me out with his curve ball three times and the fourth at bat he hit me. We talked about that day every time we got together. Our team lost, but we played well, just they played better.
The other fellow that passed away was a 'gear head' also like me. We worked on cars together. He was maybe 5 years older than me, but we got along really well probably because we had the same interest. My first car was a '50 Olds Rocket 88 and he drove a Black '62 Olds Convertible named the "Black Widow" painted in white on the side with the web and a big spider on it. Really cool back in those days. We shared tools and went to the junk yards together to get parts because as kids, we couldn't afford new parts. The guy at the one junkyard really liked Jake and me, so he would let us raid his cars for small stuff, like light bulbs for in the dash or maybe hinges, or lenses and stuff like that. I once got a speedometer cable from him no charge. Just really great times.
Awww the memories. Where does time go? Why is it we always think we have all the time in the world to go visit people and then never get around to it, until we go to their funeral? I will admit that I am one of those procrastinators that always think to myself that I have to go see so and so someday. Yeah, someday. At the funeral.
If you are guessing that I am feeling a little low and maybe a little guilty, you would be correct, but it helps to share these things with someone during times like this. And, as I said one other time in this forum, it is situations like this that I have problems of letting go and moving on. I feel that I should have been here for the funerals to at least say good-bye. I did call and apologize to their wives, but there is still a void. Same thing when I left Vietnam and was injured. They sent me home and my guys were left there to do my end of the job. Even though I left only one month early, I still feel guilty to this day. Forgiving yourself for me is really a hard thing to do. Forgiving, letting go and moving on are the three things that I just never over-came in my life.
I apologize for the length of this post and hope I didn't bore anyone, but not everyone understands these types of things.
One thing is for certain, they may be gone, but not the memories. They hang on forever. The one fellow that just passed away played baseball for a competing team when we played as kids. We lived about 5 miles apart in different small towns, but went to the same high school. As my wife and I were driving around yesterday running errands, she asked me what was I thinking about. I told her I was thinking about the one fellow that just died and we had played in a championship game one summer day. He was the other team's pitcher and I caught for our team. I told my wife that I hated to admit it, but I was known as a clutch hitter, until that day. He struck me out with his curve ball three times and the fourth at bat he hit me. We talked about that day every time we got together. Our team lost, but we played well, just they played better.
The other fellow that passed away was a 'gear head' also like me. We worked on cars together. He was maybe 5 years older than me, but we got along really well probably because we had the same interest. My first car was a '50 Olds Rocket 88 and he drove a Black '62 Olds Convertible named the "Black Widow" painted in white on the side with the web and a big spider on it. Really cool back in those days. We shared tools and went to the junk yards together to get parts because as kids, we couldn't afford new parts. The guy at the one junkyard really liked Jake and me, so he would let us raid his cars for small stuff, like light bulbs for in the dash or maybe hinges, or lenses and stuff like that. I once got a speedometer cable from him no charge. Just really great times.
Awww the memories. Where does time go? Why is it we always think we have all the time in the world to go visit people and then never get around to it, until we go to their funeral? I will admit that I am one of those procrastinators that always think to myself that I have to go see so and so someday. Yeah, someday. At the funeral.
If you are guessing that I am feeling a little low and maybe a little guilty, you would be correct, but it helps to share these things with someone during times like this. And, as I said one other time in this forum, it is situations like this that I have problems of letting go and moving on. I feel that I should have been here for the funerals to at least say good-bye. I did call and apologize to their wives, but there is still a void. Same thing when I left Vietnam and was injured. They sent me home and my guys were left there to do my end of the job. Even though I left only one month early, I still feel guilty to this day. Forgiving yourself for me is really a hard thing to do. Forgiving, letting go and moving on are the three things that I just never over-came in my life.
I apologize for the length of this post and hope I didn't bore anyone, but not everyone understands these types of things.
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