As my regular readers will know, through the powers of social media I was put in touch with an old flame, not just any old boyfriend, but the my first! Oooo, I blushed as I typed that. Hehe! Actually, we were each other’s first.
As you also know, the circumstances which prompted the search for me are sad… no point in beating about the bush. He is dying of secondaries following a initial successful removal of a primary melanoma.
When our mutual friend managed to track me down via Facebook, not an easy task when he didn’t know my married name, I was full of trepidation. What role did he think I would play? Cheerer-upper? Consoler? I tried to find our anything about him on social media but turned up nothing, not even a photo! Considering just how small Mr T’s online footprint (literally zero!) is, would he even be up for renewing our friendship?
Turns out, after a few email exchanges, he was very much pleased to be back in touch, even if only for his last few weeks on Earth. He’s not lost his dry sense of humour. If anything he’s worse, which makes me smile through the sad tears that fall when I think about his situation.
So, back to my role in this. Why has the universe seen fit to set our paths to cross again? Here’s what I think it is.
I’m the only one who remembers him as a teenager, unspoilt by the troubles that plagued his adult life and all the accompanying issues. It’s my job to write to him and recount the times we spent together being daft youngsters, to remind him that there were lots of happy times. As far as I can tell, my trips down memory lane have cheered him up no end. I know I can’t ‘fix’ this, but I can make it more pleasant if possible.
I have one last thing to do before, as he puts it, the Grim Reaper ambushes him, and that’s to thank him for being himself when I knew him, for leaving me with good memories of him, for his gentleness, kindness and mad humour, and most of all, for setting me free all those years ago. At the time I was devastated, but it started me down a path that lead me to Mr Dean, so how can I be anything except grateful.
I’m going to do it the old fashioned way and write a letter, on paper, with a fountain pen too. I just need to keep a wad of blotting paper to hand to roll over ink splotches and any tear splats.
Thank you to the super-organised Linda G Hill for the weekly prompt. Pop on over and check out her wonderful blog.