This past week John and I found out that a friend of ours passed away. We hadn’t seen him in years, it’s almost as if he was a part of a life that I only vaguely remembered. He was apart of our twenties a time when Saturday nights easily rolled into Sunday mornings and week night dinners were based on what bar was having a special that night. All of those things such a lifetime ago.
And hearing about his passing not only made me sad but it took me back to a time in my life and people that I haven’t really thought about in a long time. So I pulled out some old photo albums and allowed myself to get lost for a bit. Memories came rushing back, of laughter and shots and cheers and late nights. Of nights that we were so lucky to have survived. Of a time when I couldn’t imagine any further than the next nights drinks. There were no plans, no futures, just now.
And I thought of the people in those faded memories. Some I see in my Facebook news feed, some I haven’t seen in years, some I hear rumors and rumblings about, some I loved so very much and yet have lost touch with (that was the hardest) and now some are gone.
The feeling of all those losses weighed heavy on my heart. In my twenties we were all so invincible. We would always be together. We would always have each other. Tomorrow would always bring drinks and laughter and fun. The bartenders would always know our name and we would always have each others backs. There were knowing glances and inside jokes and songs that we requested just for each other. There was Sweet Caroline and Don’t Stop Believing and that Howie Day song that was ours.
There were no Facebook postings or Instagrams. But there was always a story to tell the next day.
And I don’t know if I have the right words to sum up the loss. But Saturday we said good bye to a friend and I like to think he was there this weekend when an old friend opened a door that I had thought was closed. I like to think he was there when we lifted tequila shots and when I remembered the songs he used to make up and the adventures that he was apart of. I like to think that he’s there in the background just like he was so many years ago.
When I pulled out one of my old photo albums I realized I had scrawled this quote on the front of it. And I thought of how those words only now seemed true.
I'm sorry for your loss. It's hit me hard when people I knew in high school or my early twenties have died. It just doesn't seem possible.