Roberta Teller Reflects on the Loss of Some Friends

I talk to Miami-mostly when I’m feeling down, blue, going through an emotional time. or need advice. I talk to her while driving in the car, or in the bath or sometimes as I’m falling asleep.  Recently, when I had my hip replacement surgery, she was there with me in the operating room. 

Miami died on Sept. 14, 1999, two months after her 50th birthday. We had talked a couple of days before.  She told me she thought she had a blood clot and promised me that she would make an appointment with her doctor the next day.  I never found out if she did make that appointment, but I do know that she had a massive seizure 3 days later that rendered her brain dead. The doctor and family agreed to pull the plug after no brain activity for 2 days.  She had just celebrated her 50th birthday. Her death shocked and rocked me. It left a hole in me that over the years has only gotten bigger and more painful.  I thought that time healed wounds, but not in this case. Contrary to what I believed, this loss has become greater as time passes.  And as the years go by, I miss her more and more.  Several years ago, I became really angry and I started yelling at Miami for abandoning me .  Where was she?  I needed her!!!!  She responded to my tirade.  We’ve been talking ever since. 

I am fortunate to have lived so far to my 66th birthday in good health.  I’ve had my  issues, but nothing life threatening.   Some of my other friends have not been so lucky.  Ginger had been diagnosed with acid indigestion, so when she had her last symptoms, her partner gave her a Tums. She died from an undiagnosed heart problem at 57.  Jim died of a stroke or heart attack at 62 somewhere between Oakland and LA along Highway 5.  Kenny had just returned home from a game of basketball and collapsed and died in his living room.  We were teenagers when we met, I married him at 21 and although our marriage ended 33 years and lifetimes ago, I was heartbroken. He was 60 when he died.  Why didn’t I go to that poker tournament he asked me to attend in Vegas?  

I think about these old friends of mine.  Sometimes, it’s a dream, other times it’s a song on the radio. Sometimes it’s when I drive by or even remember restaurants we frequented.  Every once in a while I look at the obituaries and wish that I had seen the one written about Ginger.  Had I seen it, I would have known a lot sooner that she had died and could have attended her memorial service and grieved with her friends and family. We hadn’t spoken in about a year and a half.......we were both workaholics in distant school districts and work took precedence......Her friends tried to find me, but couldn’t......my unlisted phone number didn’t help. 

I was waiting until I retired to contact Jim.  We were very close for many years. We had so much fun together and somewhere along the way, we had a falling out. I was always going to call him when I had more time.......wish I had known that his time would be up before I got around to it. 

I miss these old friends of mine.  They are all part of my story, woven into the fabric of my life. And yes, I talk to one of them and lovingly remember the others.  I can’t go back and change what’s been done, but I do hope that I remember to make time for who and what is most important to me.  And forgive myself for my (former) screwed up priorities.