That my friend is how we met. On Facebook. We were both fans of George Takei. Oh My! And one day around 3 years ago he posted some toilet humor cartoon with a fish. I don’t recall the joke.
But I remember what I typed in the reply line. And I replied “Crappie” (for the non-initiated, a Midwest freshwater pan fish similar to a perch, and actually pronounced Croppy) But it looks like it should be pronounced Crappy. And it really was a perfectly funny response to the “fish turd” joke. And apparently you were in a laughing kind of mood…. and you “liked” my comment. You and several other absolute strangers. And I felt good and that was that.
But that was not that. You mustered up the energy to message me and asked to be my friend. Now I must say… I was attracted immediately to your picture. And I hoped you were not some Nigerian scam artist, targeting my massive American wealth. Fortunately it was my humor that you were after. And we became friends. You moved outside of your comfort circle… and friend-ed a stranger. Someone you would never have to meet. And we would joke and we laughed and just enjoyed each other…. and then came the second day. And someone you thought would be a random, never meet, make me smile kind of guy from some distant land…. well…. if I may put words in your mouth… “Holy Sh*!, the guy lives in Tulsa, less than 30 miles from my Owasso home.” Spoiler!!
The first months were delightful. We were funny together. We never met. We planned on it, we never followed through. There were discoveries and journeys via phone, text and facebook. We we members of similar “clubs” The multiple dog owner club. The I lost my spouse to a horrible accident club. The quick wit/funny club. The on a spiritual journey club. The enjoy a good wine club. And the being in a relationship is exhausting and leave me alone clubs.
So during “our” first two years, I think there were 3 befriending and 3 unfriending events on Facebook. We were together. We were silent and apart. We lived alone. After a period, there would be a tap on the door, an open moment, with smiles, laughter, and even one meet for brunch event. Two hours at the cafe in Utica Square. Delightful, refreshing, for both of us I believe. And I will add…. glorious for me. You were just a joy to be with and talk with. You are so attractive… what a wonderful breath of fresh air. And then you would “disappear.” For those moments, closeness was not to be a part of your life. I was asked to lose your number. I had not “done” anything, it just was NOT time.
But there were big changes coming. You became a Grandma. And frankly, you changed I think. “Boo” changed you. That little boy was a big life changer. I will not attempt to put words in your mouth, nor outline the changes. Nor even suppose to understand, having never been neither a parent nor obviously then a grandparent. But I will say, your world exploded and expanded. And around a year ago, I became a part of your new expansion process. I will be forever grateful. Though our together times are infrequent, they are a part of us…. and for me they are wonderful.
We have indeed become friends over the last year.
We have done business together. You have entrusted me to sell things for you an Ebay. I have been blessed financially because of “us.”
But more importantly, you have given me some firsts and lasts. The kind of things that will linger in my brain for the remainder of my life as I think of you.
Our date at the Tulsa state fair. You where there… for my first ever scorpion and meal worm pizza. I will think of you every time I am stung by a scorpion. It will be our dance.
And you are the last woman to let me in her bed. You were not in it, you were on the couch. Because after and evening in your home, with conversation, dogs, a beautifully cooked meal, jinga and yahtzee, and too much wine… you took my car keys and safely tucked me in. Among the many reasons, I love you for that concern and level of sharing.
And the truth is, I don’t remember any dates in our together time. Couples often remember dates and times. I will for the moment say that I now will remember one. June 2, 2015. I was suppose to visit you at your home, I had to postpone. However, during the evening we did speak on the phone.
It was so nice to hear your voice. You just cause me to smile every time we speak. You are just a light. I am not always good at listening, though I try. And I am not always good at remembering unless I write it down.
This is my June 2, 2015 memory. This is what I heard. “liver disease” and “auto-immune” and “terminal” and “six months.”
I promised you I would not feel sorry for you. I don’t. But I do adore you. I do love you. I will be here or there for you.
Maybe while there is still time… we can escape Tulsa together.
Maybe a trip to Grand Lake.