The most recent memorial event I participated in happened last July for my best friend from high school. It consisted of myself, her daughter and a man she had fallen in love with at the very end of her life. The three of us commemorated her life in his home in Victorville. She had moved there six weeks before, although she was very ill with heart issues, and in fact died in her sleep in his bed.
I had heard so much about Allen, how they had reconnected via email after she had helped him secure health insurance five years before. They had a sort of whirlwind romance even as she was getting sicker and sicker. He also had serious health issues. In their mid 70s, they were life giggling teens discovering love for the first time.
Caroline and I had lost touch for almost 40 years between high school back in Connecticut and finding her also living nearby in California. Our friendship took up where it had left off decades earlier. We would get together once a month for walks, trips to art museums and delicious lunches. Her daughter is an artist and educator and was being diagnosed with cancer a year ago, when her mother’s pacemaker began to fail. Trips to the ER followed. It was disheartening to see Caroline’s health decline. Nonetheless, she picked up and moved in with him in early June last year.
I was shocked to hear that she died in her sleep. Her daughter called me and asked me if I wanted to drive to Victorville to meet Allen and pick up her ashes. I didn’t really know Vera very well but got to know her a lot better during the four hour drive. She needed to talk. When we got to Allen’s home, the three of us went to the mortuary and picked up her ashes. We had lunch in her favorite Japanese restaurant and went back to his house. The three of us reminisced about the impact she had on our lives amidst a lot of tears.
For me, her family was a refuge, in many ways, from my own, when we were both teens. Theirs was much more peaceful, liberal and welcoming than my mine. We were both among the unpopular kids, sort of offbeat (especially her) and interested in reading and movies in art theaters. I was able to tell them about the friend I knew for so long.
I really treasure that memorial. Each of us shared what we loved the most about Caroline and were feeling the loss of her deeply. I’ve followed her daughter’s struggles with cancer and keep in touch with her.
— Oxnard15
I had heard so much about Allen, how they had reconnected via email after she had helped him secure health insurance five years before. They had a sort of whirlwind romance even as she was getting sicker and sicker. He also had serious health issues. In their mid 70s, they were life giggling teens discovering love for the first time.
Caroline and I had lost touch for almost 40 years between high school back in Connecticut and finding her also living nearby in California. Our friendship took up where it had left off decades earlier. We would get together once a month for walks, trips to art museums and delicious lunches. Her daughter is an artist and educator and was being diagnosed with cancer a year ago, when her mother’s pacemaker began to fail. Trips to the ER followed. It was disheartening to see Caroline’s health decline. Nonetheless, she picked up and moved in with him in early June last year.
I was shocked to hear that she died in her sleep. Her daughter called me and asked me if I wanted to drive to Victorville to meet Allen and pick up her ashes. I didn’t really know Vera very well but got to know her a lot better during the four hour drive. She needed to talk. When we got to Allen’s home, the three of us went to the mortuary and picked up her ashes. We had lunch in her favorite Japanese restaurant and went back to his house. The three of us reminisced about the impact she had on our lives amidst a lot of tears.
For me, her family was a refuge, in many ways, from my own, when we were both teens. Theirs was much more peaceful, liberal and welcoming than my mine. We were both among the unpopular kids, sort of offbeat (especially her) and interested in reading and movies in art theaters. I was able to tell them about the friend I knew for so long.
I really treasure that memorial. Each of us shared what we loved the most about Caroline and were feeling the loss of her deeply. I’ve followed her daughter’s struggles with cancer and keep in touch with her.
— Oxnard15
This is sentimental in a GOOD way. It's wonderful that you both "took up where it had left off decades earlier." When you have a good friend, it doesn't matter whether you're "unpopular" or not. What was the draw to California for both of you? (I made a cross-country move decades ago, but vertically--not a step up, according to old friends and siblings). You have depicted a sad but beautiful scene. (Macoff)
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