Dec. 26: Saying goodbye

 I have had to say goodbye to two best friends. The first I met in kindergarten, the other I met through work when I was well into my thirties. Cancer claimed the first, a combination of booze and bad luck claimed the other. The two of them never met but there was a brief time when the two were sort of involved in each other's lives.

Jason, my first friend, was in hospice, fading fast. I had been planning to fly into Calgary on May 3, 2009 - a Sunday - for a final visit. Jeff, my second friend, called me on the office cell phone while I was covering an assignment at a local high school. My mom had called the newspaper and left a message that Jeff relayed to me: I had to get on a plane ASAP.

So I got on a plane on the morning of April 30 and I flew out to Calgary and stupid old me didn't know that my best friend passed away the previous evening. I never got to say goodbye to him. I'm still mad at myself for that. I should have trusted my instinct and got on a plane sooner.

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Jeff died a little over 10 years later. How's this for a coincidence? I might have been covering an assignment at that very same high school at the exact time that he died.

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Out of respect for Jeff, I won't dwell on how, in the space of 10 years, he went from employed family man to living by himself in a rundown apartment somewhere in Manitoba. What I will say is that he made some mistakes. He had a problem and, sadly, he was never able to address it. 

His death was sudden. I never got to say goodbye to him either. 

He was a huge fan of the Winnipeg Blue Bombers. How sad that he passed the very year that the Bombers won their first Grey Cup since 1990. I would have loved to experience that Grey Cup win with him, even if I am a fan of the Saskatchewan Roughriders.

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Although this note is titled "Saying goodbye," I note that I have never had to say goodbye to anyone knowing it would likely be the last time I'd see them. The closest I can come is for my maternal grandmother, whose brain had been so addled with Alzheimer's when I last saw her that she didn't recognize me. There exists somewhere a video of grandma dancing at the condo she and my grandfather had shared in the December of their lives. Someone had put on some music, which triggered something in grandma's brain. She got up and danced and granddad danced with her and the whole thing is on video somewhere. 

At grandma's funeral, my Aunt Sandra said "goodbye, mom" as the Hearse took the casket to the final resting site. I will remember that moment forever. She got to say goodbye. I am happy that she did.