Life can be cruel

 

Today I am reminded at how cruel and unfair life can be.  Last night, at the far too young age of 50, my friend Chris passed away. Her son J, called today to let me know - thankfully he and her other son R, were with her, along with R's dad Ro. I've always referred to her before as C, and she is my friend whose mother passed away last December. 

I've known Chris for nearly 30 years; we met through mutual friends and despite the age difference, became close over the years. She had her son J when she was about 22, and I would often take him for a couple of days to give her a break when he was an infant. (My children tell me it was most weekends, but to honest, I don't remember it being that frequent at all.) 

Every summer, she and would take the kids (my two, her one) to the Regina Exhibition. While I took J on the kiddy rides, she would take mine on the midway - once they were all tall enough to ride, and the scarier the ride the better. I paid for the ride pass because there was no damn way I was going on the rides with them. Both D and C still talk about the fun they had with Chris at the fair.

Several years later, when she married Ro, I was one of her bridesmaids. After R was born (he's now 15) the three of us would get together to go garage-saling. I can remember one time, when R was about four very clearly.  He wanted an old toy lawn mower from one of the garage sales, and his mom said no, and he said "Mom, we need to compromise." It took some convincing for him to understand a compromise was when each person gave up something and he was really looking for his mom to capitulate. 

Sadly, the relationship between Chris and Ro didn't last, and Chris' life became quite chaotic. She moved several times within the city, occasionally I would be there to help with the move, and we'd get together once in awhile to hit a few garage sales. About five or six years ago, she moved out of the city, and our visits were even more infrequent. I did get a visit with her three years ago, when I did a day trip out to the area and we met for coffee at Tim Hortons.

Chris loved the coffee at Timmy's. The order was always the same, a large coffee with two cream and four sugar. My son, told me a story today, that he remembers Chris pretending to write her name in the coffee with the sugar. It wouldn't surprise me in the least! When I drove her to work this winter before she got her truck, the staff at the drive-through near her house knew her order because she was there daily.

I hadn't realized she'd moved back to the city a couple of years ago, but we had kept in contact through Facebook. She was busy working full-time, spending weekends with R, and volunteering at the Rider games throughout the football season. Then her mom got ill last winter and passed away, and we began to spend more time together. 

I can't remember a time, when we were together throughout the years, that we didn't laugh about something. Even in those darkest days after her mom passed, one of us would remember something and the laughter would bubble up. Any time we were at a garage sale and the stuff was tacky ugly, she'd pick something up and say, isn't this adorable or cute or pretty? I'll just say, I don't have a poker face and trying to be polite without agreeing was interesting. We'd crack up in the car afterward. 

She could talk to anyone, and often did at length. Before R was born, I'd have to drag her away from a garage sale if there was a baby nearby. More recently, it was often a dog that would catch her attention. Since I was usually the driver I'd have to make as if I was leaving her behind.

Chris loved cats, and her current apartment is full of them. There are two live ones and every cat tschotske known to humankind. (Knick-knacks and paddy whacks is how she referred to them.) Many of these items were purchased at garage sales or the thrift store. And of course, many were gifts she was given over the years. It was never hard to buy a Christmas gift for Chris.

With her mom's passing, she came into an inheritance that suddenly made her life much easier. She had struggled most of her adult life to support herself, to help J, and pay her child support for R.  This was a huge change for her and Chris felt guilty about the money, as it came at such a price. But she had dreams, and a couple of them came to fruition. She was able to get a tattoo, dyed green streaks in her hair (for the Riders), and bought a bright yellow pick-up. Chris was looking forward to buying a house, where there would be room for R, and a fenced yard for a dog. We even talked about taking an ocean cruise someday in the future. 

Today, I am angry for her. It seems so unfair, that just as her life was becoming easier and more opportunities were opening up, she won't ever have the chance to realize her dreams. Chris won't meet her grandchild, due in a few months. She won't be there when J marries his girlfriend or when R graduates from highschool. 

Today, I am heartbroken with the loss of my friend. We weren't always close, but our friendship spanned almost three decades. I am especially grateful for the time we were able to spend together over the past few months. We had made plans to get together this weekend for coffee. Instead, I'll be attending her funeral in a few days. 

Chris was a very special friend. No matter how much time had passed between visits, we started up right where we left off. We never parted without a hug and I love you to each other. I will miss her very much.