Ruby Two

For anyone’s information (if they even care), I have decided to just send Ruby’s husband a nice (written) card and feel sorry for myself here instead of paying $1,000 to feel sorry for myself. I will wait for the Memorial moment and will sit here and remember here. There are a few reasons for this decision other than the cost. Later, after I had written my last post I sat down to see the logistics from here to there and back again. I emailed one of my special friends to see if he would escort me to the memorial because he knew her even better than I and we were still keeping in touch and we had been almost best friends. I know he had been best friends with my husband and they had worked together. When we moved to Northern California he often came up to visit and party with us. He responded with “No, I’m not going to the Memorial” That was it. So, blubber mouth that I am I asked “well, don’t you even want to see me?” and he replied with “of course, maybe we can do brunch.”
Well, I have to admit that that sucked the air out of my lungs for a few minutes. Brunch? After not seeing each other for 30 years? That’s it? I mean, it’s not that I wanted him to jump my bones but gee – how about a little pleasure, excitement and surprise about seeing each other again after so long? So, I lost two friends and that took care of the rest of the day. As my husband says…”stupid is as stupid does, you’re way too sensitive and I can’t tell you what to do or say because I hate people myself”.
Alrightee then. I must have misunderstood. I’m always doing that so, blubber mouth that I am, I called my “friend” (forgetting the time difference between NY and CA) and said “what the heck is going on with you? (using a different word) and he said “can’t we talk about this later”, which I replied “no, I want it straight off the cuff”. So he explained that I’m a little more sensitive than most friends and he has “moved on” from that group of people. I asked “and me?” He said, “yes, and you”. I asked him about all the emails, the telephone calls, the Christmas cards… and he said he didn’t mind them but that he had “moved on”. OK. Well then. I said thanks, hung up the telephone and grabbed a dry dog.
I’m sorry. I can’t believe that. Are all my past friends past. Should I only send Christmas cards to my new friends? Maybe I should send Christmas cards to my old friends and always mark them “Postmaster: Please advise Moving On Address”. No wonder this world is so screwed up! I mean, should I be tough and that way, too? If I see an old woman walking down the street with her purse should I grab it an run thinking that “hey, if I wouldn’t have taken it then someone else would”! Well, youch. I’m thinking that maybe I don’t want to be here so much any more and that it is a really good thing that they invented my brand of antidepressant even though it doesn’t work as well on some days.
But then it came to me. Like a bolt of lightning actually. NO! He has not moved on. I have left him behind. And if he tripped and fell and I turned around and saw him, stupid or not, darned if I wouldn’t go back and help him. I’ve always supposed that I’m on a different path than a lot of people that I know and my friends are on that same path with me. Now I’ve learned that some of my friends just give up and sit down on a stump and there they stay until karma hits them up again.
So, I’m not feeling too well, but I am feeling better and my other friends are just going to have to tell me (if they want) that they are tired and want to sit and wave me on. Only this time I’ll see the wave.

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