Knowing Me, Knowing You

Due to tragic and incomprehensible events my best friend is on the brink of death. As I look back on the time we shared I find myself lingering over the many conversations we had, the experiences we shared and the overwhelming feeling that we were destined to know each other.

Rather than dwell on yet another crushing loss, I choose to remember him as he was: vibrant, loving, sarcastic, cynical and generous to a fault. I'll reminisce about how he was the consummate shopper and filled his home with beautiful things. I'll recall how he would get angry over the dumbest things like being served rice in a really big pineapple at the local Thai restaurant. I'll never forget how we strolled the streets of Salem together and perused the shops in Montreal. I can still hear him gripe about how lousy TV is these days (except the soap operas which are flawless) even though he hasn't been able to speak since June. He was always ready to listen and, of course, give his opinion.

I can't say he was perfect, but his imperfections endeared him to me. It was his outlook on life that caused me to analyze my own. His biting wit never failed to make me laugh.

They say that paths cross for a reason and that every life has purpose. I believe that knowing him has enriched my life in many ways. I can only hope that he finds the peace he'd been searching for for so long.