Memorial Monday~The Death of a Friend

The Death of a Friend

Harold Martin 24 Years Old

Back in the 70’s I worked at a record store. You know back in the old days when records were vinyl, 45’s, and cassette tapes were the fad.  They had just fazed out the 8 track and we all thought the cassette was the wave of the future. The store I worked at was in a strip mall and had an outside window. One night there was a guy who kept walking by and making funny faces at me. To make a long story short we dated and ended up dating and living together off and on for 8 years and no, it was not a good thing. What I did get out of the situation was his sister, who became my best friend and I was very close with his dad.

“Dad” and my BFF, Debbie kept in touch and when they both moved to Colorado I spent a couple of weeks with them here and there. “Dad” got really sick in the 90’s and from then on he had to be on oxygen full time. Because of his health he sold the house there and bought a big motor home and came back to California. We have an acre and a half of land so we offered to share it with him, and they lived in our yard until they found a place to put their motor home year round.

I got a call two months ago from his wife and she told me he was dying and not expected to live through the week. He was a grumpy old cuss, having served in the navy, and put up a good fight. It seemed like he got so much better. He recently showed me a picture a German Prisoner drew of him when he was a kid. It was a beautiful one, done in pencil and it showed him as just a young lad. I don’t remember the story of how he got it, I am not sure he told me.  He did not serve in war time and did not tell me more than that.

My BFF Debbie and “Dad” 1977

He was in hospice about an hour away from us, and his family is all out of state. I felt it was my duty to stand is as his daughter and I know he really appreciated me and my hubby being there. I had a wonderful phone conversation with him last Monday. We talked quite a bit, maybe a half hour or so. I told him I would be down on Saturday to visit and reminded him how much I loved him.

On Tuesday he called me back and told me his kidneys were shutting down and he did not think he would make it till Saturday. The sharp witted man from the day before was gone and although he made the call he was confused when I questioned him. We were going down to my grandson’s graduation on Thursday so my hubby took the day off and we went there first. He was really bad off, I did not stay long. Before I left I went up and kissed him on his cheek and rubbed his head and told him we were leaving. He came back to reality for a moment and asked me if I got to see the picture the German drew. I said I had, and how wonderful it was. I kissed him once again and told him I love him. He said “I love you too, take care.”  Little did I know those would be the last words he would ever speak to me.

We got the call this morning he died this about 2am. There will be no funeral, and no memorial service. None of his kids are here anyway. I am angry and thankful. Thankful he is no longer in pain. Thankful he is no longer struggling to breathe. Thankful he is no longer in hospice where he hated it. I am angry I will no longer have this dear friend in my life.

Update 7/2/2012 I find that I am no longer angry, only thankful. I am thankful he was my friend, I am thankful that I have my blog and by blogging about him he will never be forgotten. That is one thing he told me when we talked one day. He was afraid no one would remember him. I promised him that I for one would never forget him, and I won’t.