RECONNECTING IS A POWERFUL FEELING

I took my oldest brother's advice. Darrell has been struggling with life since our dad passed away. He was very close with my father. So close, that when Cyndi and I sold our home in the late 90's, our father bought it from us. The house was around the corner from Darrell and his family. We bought our place first. Three months later, Darrell bought in the same neighborhood. It wasn't like we saw him every day or anything. In fact, there would be times we didn't see each other for days. But it was convenient. If we needed someone to let the dogs out because we were going to be away for an extended period of time, Darrell was there. When Darrell's wife, Cindy, went into labor with their second child (false labor a time or two), we were so close that we could watch their son, Kyle.

In a passing comment one time, my dad had said that if we were ever thinking about selling the house, we needed to let him know. He would buy it from us, he told me. When we decided to move into the city, we told my dad. He asked us to get the house appraised, settled on a price, and he put his place up on the market. It was that simple.

Having my dad so close to Darrell was a much better situation for both of them. Darrell and my dad were best friends. There's no jealousy when I write those words. They just enjoyed each other's company immensely. They had a relationship I wish I had with my dad. They were the cliched "peas and carrots."

If you take out days where Darrell and his family were gone for vacations, I would guess that they saw each other every day. A quick cup of coffee here, a bite to eat on a Tuesday, they even went to the grocery store together. And I would guess that they talked on the phone several times a day too. They were a couple of girlfriends, connected at the ear, sometimes.

Darrell doesn't have an inner circle of friends, per se. My dad was his best friend, so when he died, it was a tremendous loss for him in many ways. Like quitting smoking or giving up alcohol, it was the habit of the relationship that was the hardest to recover from.

Darrell is six years older than me. Old enough to be ahead of me on the maturity level when we were kids. He was always at a much different place in his life than I was, and didn't have the time to look after a little kid. Understandably. He had girls to look after. Many of them. All at the same time. Now that he's getting older (he's crossed the line to being closer to 50 than 40 now), I imagine he's looking back at his life. He recalls his past with fondness, like I do, and he is grasping for something that will make him feel less pain.

The other day, Darrell sent me a message. It was titled, "Just a thought." Here's what he wrote, verbatim (spelling and grammar errors and all):



As we age i find myself thinking more and more about old times playing kick ball having fire work wars with the neighbor and come to realize damn i miss those days. after your writing of tony bondis mom passing away it makes you think of all those friends that for some stupid reason we lost touch with i cant believe how short life actually is i really dont want one day some one saying i cant believe he died about me i havent talked to hiim in years. RECONNECTING IS A POWERFUL FEELING.



So I took his advice. I sat down, found a blank card in Cyndi's pile of greeting cards, and wrote Tony Bondi a note. I expressed to him my sympathies for the loss of his mother. I expressed to him how I was sorry we lost touch and how nice it would be to reconnect. I gave him my phone number and told him I would be happy to hear from him. I sent the card on Tuesday.

My phone rang on Wednesday. I didn't recognize the number, or the voice. As soon as Tony identified himself, it was like there wasn't a six year lapse between conversations. It was comfortable, and it was connecting. 10:47 later, we made plans to get "the band back together."

Thanks for the advice, Darrell. I'm glad a took it.