Today is the 17th anniversary of S’s death.
S was one of the funniest, most obnoxious people I’ve ever known.
He could make me laugh and laugh,
even when I didn’t want to give him that satisfaction.
But S was also fiercely loyal.
I went through a rough time when I was eighteen.
I’d just finished my freshmen year of college
and wasn’t sure where to go from there.
One particularly difficult night
there was a lot of drama
involving an apartment lease and some so-called friends,
and I just needed to get away.
I called a cab and S left the group to come with me.
But it wasn’t until we were somewhere in the boondocks outside Madison
that we realized we didn’t have much money.
After a somewhat panicked, whispered consultation
we asked the driver to stop.
We gave the confused man all the money we had and got out.
Then S and I walked.
I don’t remember all the remaining details
but I know there was swearing.
And laughter.
Followed by more swearing and laughter.
But at no point was there finger-pointing, blame, guilt or shame.
S was my friend.
My best friend.
He knew I was already hurting enough.
The next day, though,
there was undoubtedly hell-to-pay.
S could only rein it in for so long.
Tracy Abell 
Tracy, that is a beautiful memory, even with the sharp edges. What a great tribute. I am sorry for your loss.
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He definitely had some sharp edges. HA! Thanks for stopping by to share in my memories, Jeannine.
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Tracy, I’m so sorry for the loss of your friend all those years ago but glad you had the chance to know him. This reminds me of a line from a Leonard Cohen song: “If I’ve got to remember that’s a fine memory.”
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Ooh, I like that line. I’d much rather feel the pang of missing him than not have these memories at all.
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Tracy, sorry for the loss of your friend. I bet he would like this post.
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You’re so right: he would like this post. Thank you.
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we always seem to get the friends we need at the time we need them, don’t we?
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Yep, the friends thing works out in a pretty magical way. I know you know how that goes.
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HUGS! I’m glad you have some good memories.
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Thank you for the hugs, Robin. I’ve got lots of good memories and play them back whenever I need a fix.
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He sounds like a wonderful friend. Hugs.
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He was a wonderful friend and we made lots of good memories over the years. Thank you, Barb.
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What a loss. I’m sorry. S. lives on through this post and your memories.
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Wildebeest’s middle name is in honor of S and that means so much to my son. Both kids like to hear S stories.
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Based on your description, I wish I’d known S.
I’m imagining you wandering around Middleton, or Black Earth, or Mazomanie…
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You would’ve gotten a kick out of him, I know. And you’re right – I think we were wandering around Middleton!!!
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S. sounds like quite the character. Thanks for sharing your memories–hugs to you, Tracy.
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S was a hoot, Lorraine. He would’ve had you laughing, no doubt. Thank you for the hug.
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A fiercely loyal friend who makes you laugh is a lovely thing to have. I can imagine how you must miss him. You’ll have to tell us more stories about S.
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Thanks for understanding, Jennifer. I’ve got his photo here on my desk so I can visit with him every day.
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I’m sorry Tracy. Those we lose are never gone unless we forget them.
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Thank you for your kind thoughts. I will never forget.
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