I had a good friend that passed on a while back. When he was still alive, he would sometimes ask me what I thought ever happened to a gal, that was his first love.
I got busy and found out where she lived, even found him an address, which wasn’t too far off his beaten path. He never got the courage to make contact. I think he knew it’s wasn’t the thing to do. His life had made many turns and given that it appeared she had married a couple of times and had children and grandchildren, not making contact with the past was probably the best.
Something made me think about this lady a day or so ago. I felt like she probably should know that the young man she had loved so many years ago had passed on. I wanted her to know what a great man he was. I had written about this fellow. Last night I printed out what I had written about my friendship with him and what he had meant to me. I looked up her address again. I was going to be over that way today, so with the difficulties contacting folks by telephone any longer, all these cell phones have pretty well made that a thing of the past. So dropping by was my best alternative.
I walked up and knocked on the door. A lady answered. It was obvious to me that I wasn’t speaking to whom I had set out to see. When I spoke the lady’s name and said I wondering if she still lived at this address. I can’t be for sure if the person at the door spoke English, because she never uttered a word. She shook her head “no”, and slammed the door.
I returned to my truck and contemplated my next move. This lady and her daughters, of who I found looking at obituaries, appeared to have very little interest or trust in Facebook, but had dabbled with it a bit. Sitting there a few minutes and looking at a couple of posts lead me to what would be the next younger generation, her grandchildren. Those grandchildren, especially a granddaughter was a bit more free with her information. I discovered she and one of my granddaughters we FB Friends and had gone to school together. They each are now out of college.
Never being one to give up on a good lead, I texted my granddaughter, Holly, to see if she would confirm that her friend was in fact the old friend her grandfather knew from at least 55 years ago. After some convincing, she said she would make an attempt. She said “but you know this is really weird, I haven’t seen her in like five years”.
Just to be an annoying granddad, I texted back a couple times in the next 10 minutes to see if she had anything for me. She’s knows how impatient I am, “no, she hasn’t answered me”.
I drove over to the address of this old friends daughters house. I walked up to the door, with a copy of The Angora Chronicles in hand, the additional personal story printed out and folded inside. I rang the door bell. A young man answered. I told him who I was inquiring about. Yes I had the right house, but his mother was working upstairs. Thinking that I probably shouldn’t bother a woman working, I asked about his grandmother.
I guess the working lady heard the commotion so she came to investigate. I told her who I was and what I wanted. When I mentioned the name of her mother’s first love, she knew exactly who I was talking about. It seems like the name had come up often throughout the years. I think her mother had wondered how that young man’s life had turned out.
I was to learned during our conversation that a year or so ago, she had moved her mother into a retirement home, nearby to her. In these days of Covid19, she is limited in her visits, but she was scheduled to go see her mother this afternoon. She was happy to take the book and the story to her mother.
I hope some gladness will be had by sharing the story and book with this lady. Who knows, maybe one day when Covid19 is behind us, I’ll be able to go visit this old friend once again.