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“Men’s courses will foreshadow certain ends, to which, if persevered in, they must lead. But if the courses are departed from, the ends will change.”
- Ebenezer Scrooge, ‘A Christmas Carol’.
I reference this not because I wish to draw a parallel between a specific person and Ebenezer himself. No, not at all. Rather because there are times when we must step back and look over our shoulders to see if our paths have altered and are now leading us where we had not intended to go. A small degree of change can multiply over time and distance to leave us wondering how it was we got so far off course.
When I was around 10 years old I met a young fellow who lived on the next block. He and I became fast and close friends - a friendship that lasted through our teens. We were, as the saying goes, thick as thieves. After high school life happened. We drifted apart and went our separate ways. So much happened in the intervening decades that I will never be able to learn even a small portion of what he went through. I do know that, after we rediscovered each other, I learned his life, somewhere along its path, had been shattered and broken and he was left with nothing and no one to keep him company save the demons that haunted him. He was forsaken by family and friends. Not without reason, I am sure, for he had only a fleeting relationship with honesty and a somewhat tenuous connection to reality.
He was near penniless and, after being tossed out by one friend or another over time, was renting a small room from an elderly woman in PA. He eked out a modest income buying vegetable and flower seeds in bulk, counting them out and repackaging them in small quantities, and selling them on Etsy. Such was his life the past few years since we have been reacquainted.
We often chatted on line and occasionally spoke. It was fun to reminisce, even if we seemed at time to have very different recollections of our early years together. I learned only recently that I was likely the only friend he had that would still take his calls. For that I am both thankful and shaken.
He was a prolific poster of memes on Facebook. Sometimes 20 or more in a day. I understand now that he must have had little more than this to fill his empty days. About three weeks ago he stopped posting. I regret that I did not take note of this for over a week. Once it came to my attention I attempted to contact him. When I was not able to raise a response I began checking the local obituaries. Nothing there. At first, this was a good sign, but I still wondered about his lack of response. I dug a little deeper. I found a posting from the local coroner's office that they were seeking information regarding friends and relatives of my friend as he had passed away nearly two weeks earlier with no information with him other than a drivers license. He was lying in a drawer, a candidate for an unmarked grave in potter's field.
Since then I've endeavored to get messages out to his ex wife and children. None of the correspondence has elicited a response. I fear they will all turn their backs. I've asked the coroner to let me know what the outcome of her inquiries are. I don't know what I will do with that info, but I feel I must do something.
"But if the courses are departed from, the ends will change.”
All this long-windedness to bring us back to 1970. Our parting of ways. A parting precipitated by an abrupt change of course on both our parts. Paths leading to two different worlds only to converge again at the very end. I, for one, will miss my friend. My fear is that this path might be rather lonely.
- Ebenezer Scrooge, ‘A Christmas Carol’.
I reference this not because I wish to draw a parallel between a specific person and Ebenezer himself. No, not at all. Rather because there are times when we must step back and look over our shoulders to see if our paths have altered and are now leading us where we had not intended to go. A small degree of change can multiply over time and distance to leave us wondering how it was we got so far off course.
When I was around 10 years old I met a young fellow who lived on the next block. He and I became fast and close friends - a friendship that lasted through our teens. We were, as the saying goes, thick as thieves. After high school life happened. We drifted apart and went our separate ways. So much happened in the intervening decades that I will never be able to learn even a small portion of what he went through. I do know that, after we rediscovered each other, I learned his life, somewhere along its path, had been shattered and broken and he was left with nothing and no one to keep him company save the demons that haunted him. He was forsaken by family and friends. Not without reason, I am sure, for he had only a fleeting relationship with honesty and a somewhat tenuous connection to reality.
He was near penniless and, after being tossed out by one friend or another over time, was renting a small room from an elderly woman in PA. He eked out a modest income buying vegetable and flower seeds in bulk, counting them out and repackaging them in small quantities, and selling them on Etsy. Such was his life the past few years since we have been reacquainted.
We often chatted on line and occasionally spoke. It was fun to reminisce, even if we seemed at time to have very different recollections of our early years together. I learned only recently that I was likely the only friend he had that would still take his calls. For that I am both thankful and shaken.
He was a prolific poster of memes on Facebook. Sometimes 20 or more in a day. I understand now that he must have had little more than this to fill his empty days. About three weeks ago he stopped posting. I regret that I did not take note of this for over a week. Once it came to my attention I attempted to contact him. When I was not able to raise a response I began checking the local obituaries. Nothing there. At first, this was a good sign, but I still wondered about his lack of response. I dug a little deeper. I found a posting from the local coroner's office that they were seeking information regarding friends and relatives of my friend as he had passed away nearly two weeks earlier with no information with him other than a drivers license. He was lying in a drawer, a candidate for an unmarked grave in potter's field.
Since then I've endeavored to get messages out to his ex wife and children. None of the correspondence has elicited a response. I fear they will all turn their backs. I've asked the coroner to let me know what the outcome of her inquiries are. I don't know what I will do with that info, but I feel I must do something.
"But if the courses are departed from, the ends will change.”
All this long-windedness to bring us back to 1970. Our parting of ways. A parting precipitated by an abrupt change of course on both our parts. Paths leading to two different worlds only to converge again at the very end. I, for one, will miss my friend. My fear is that this path might be rather lonely.