“I think about you every day and I don’t know why I haven’t called you.” I weep as I write these words because they were spoken by one of my oldest friends during our final conversation.
Robbie and I became best friends during my senior year in college and my first year in graduate school. One day he walked into my room and announced: “did you know we were cousins?”. It turned out that his father and my father were first cousins and although I had never met Robbie, I knew his father. So now not only were Robbie and I best friends, we were family.
Although we lived about an hour from each other, we met just about once a month for lunch at Ponzio, a well-known diner in South Jersey. Despite saying that he was going to order something different, every time we met he had a hot turkey sandwich with home fries “well done”. The next month he made the same proclamation but wound up with the hot turkey sandwich. This went on for years.
One Sunday in early November, he was taking a walk in Fairmount Park when he collapsed. A good Samaritan gave him CPR and called 911. He was in a deep coma for 3 weeks and he never woke up .
I don’t know if he went to a better place or not, if he was going to reunite with his parents and his recently deceased brother. All I know is that I lost a precious friend and we will never again laugh over his hot turkey sandwich.
The anguish I feel now feels similar to when the doctor told us that my beloved sister had a glioblastoma and her life expectancy was 18 months. She was 55 at the time.
I once had a colleague who told me that he never said “see you later”, that he always said goodbye when he left someone not knowing if he would see them again. I was 30 years old when I first heard him say that and I thought it was pretty morbid. I no longer feel that way.
We keep forgetting that the person we are with this moment will die, probably before they want to. We keep forgetting that the stranger in the street, the waitress, the colleague and the acquaintance may die before we see them again.
Even people who we might dislike, who have beliefs that are an anathema to the ones we carry. We forget they are going to die and people will weep at their funerals and likely feel the kind of pain I feel right now.
How would the world look if we remembered? Perhaps we would love who love, but if we remembered we might cherish them. Perhaps we would look at the stranger and feel warmth-even affection allowing our hearts to open. Perhaps we would even see our adversaries without feeling righteous indignation, seeing their humanity and vulnerability underneath those beliefs. Perhaps we would awaken to precious and fragile our lives and the lives of others would become.
If we only remembered.
So despite being a vegetarian, I think I’ll go to Ponzio and have a hot turkey sandwich with home fries well done.
I’m so sorry for your loss of yet another dear friend, Dan. All these memories and blessings. Sending you love and hugs.
Thank you my dear friend. And sending love back to you
I’m so sorry for your loss, Dan. Thanks for the reminder, especially at this time of year, not to take anyone, or anything, for granted.
Thanks for sharing Dan . Your insights are always good for the soul
As always you give us much to think about.
Thank you my friend forever.
Be well and wishing you a wonderful festival of light! Happy Hanukkah
So sorry for your loss! Praying for peace for you in your happy memories of your lost friend. Thanks for the reminders to appreciate those we love and those we disagree with…
Prayers and love for your sorrow.
May his Beautiful soul now be at Peace🙏
I am so sorry for your recent loss. I lost one of my closest friends and reading your post helped me.
In fact, I actually smiled. Thank you Dan for your wisdom and humor.
Thank for that moving tribute to your friend and continuing to remind us of the power of our memories and our love. You are so fortunate to have shared such a deep and meaningful relationship…..I believe it is the main ingredient in a life well lived.
Thanks, Dan, for setting aside your grief last Friday to spend time with us. I’ve thought a lot about you this week knowing you lost your friend. I’m truly sorry. Thanks for the beautiful way you reminded all of us to appreciate each day with our friends and family.
I’m so sorry for your loss. I recently learned of your friendship through my friends who live at the Island House. Through you, he met his beautiful wife! Your love and impact on your friend’s life was immeasurable. Thank you for the gentle reminder to love in the moment. Your words made me think of my baby brother who just passed suddenly. I’m so incredibly sorry for your loss. I feel your pain.
Sorry for your loss. Thank you for your kind words which are so true as our lives move on.
Sorry for your loss. Your words of wisdom are always appreciated
Dear Dan
I am reading this for the first time now…. as you celebrate the birth of your precious, newest family member.
We just returned from Rochester, NY having celebrated with a few of the remaining members of my family. As we parted, the hostess said: “We expect you here again next year!” I smiled and said I haven’t responded with an “of course” for a good few years. I DO say, as my grandmothers did before me, either I’m PLANNING to or G-d willing!” The vulnerability of age and many losses. I am so sorry for your loss. May your friend’s memory be for a blessing. So grateful you have been a blessing in so many of our lives. Sending love
Bless your heart, my dear friend
Dan,
I am so sorry for your loss. You words are timely. I lost my 93 year old Dad this morning and had to say my final goodbye on FaceTime. I appreciate your remembrance of your friend as I am remembering my hero at a too far distance today. Grateful he was surrounded by loving family members and for the precious legacy left in my heart. Hoping you enjoy that hot Turkey sandwich as much as I am the special times spent with this remarkable man. Thank you for your reminder of our only real promise of this moment in time.