Sometimes all we have are moments.
Two weeks have passed since Nicky left us, and just now today, I feel like I can talk about it here. I've been reluctant to post anything, not because I don't have anything to say, but because I have so much to say about Nicky, that the task of memorializing him here is a bit daunting. A lot of what I have to say, consists, unfortunately, of all that remained unsaid between us for years. Nicky was, after all, one of my best friends when I was much younger, and for only a few years. But even as you grow apart from your childhood friends, I don't believe that you ever stop being friends. Even if there is a falling out between two people, which never happened between Nicky and myself, I don't think that friendship fades so easily. And though I left this area after high school and have only recently come back for any significant period of time without being in some decidedly transitional phase, I have always been here, and he has always been here. We could have reconnected at any time. Such is the wonder of modern technology. For instance, I just got off of a nearly two hour Skype call with a friend that I made while living in Jerusalem, who is currently in New York. There's no reason why Nicky and I couldn't have reconnected after all this time.
We did however find each other on Facebook. I have mixed feelings about that site, because while I feel it helps me stay connected to my friends on a global scale (my friends really do span the North American continent, the Middle East, Europe and Australia at this point) and connected with people I've lost touch with from my past (as far back as kindergarten, and further, if you count my scattered extended family members), I also find it to be a dangerous platform for narcissism, and insincerity. Has anyone with a Facebook account ever looked at someone else's posted pictures of parties, travels, and otherwise good times and not felt the pangs of jealousy? It's like looking into a window of someone else's life, but the people in the window know you are watching, so they only show you the highly censored details of their lives that they want to share. And we all know this, but the illusion that everyone else is doing something much more fun, meaningful, productive or impressive is hard to reject when there is a never-ending stream of it in your face.
But even with those complaints, and even as I participate in the socially accepted narcissistic grandstanding of Facebook, I do appreciate finding the familiar faces of old friends, and have a natural curiosity regarding their lives. What are they doing now? Did they go to college? Where do they work? Are they married? Do they have kids? What do they look like? A human being can change so much over the years, and Nicky was no different. I found that he had married, had a son, and still looked so much like how I remember him, that there is no way I could have mistook him for anyone else if we were to cross each other on the streets. Looking at my old photos from our childhood, he's unmistakable. Pictures from my 13th birthday party of us bowling are just as vivid as my memories of him.
We didn't talk much on Facebook. Just an occasional hello, liking a post, commenting here and there. And there was something comforting in that. I could reach out and say 'hi' whenever I wanted to. I could set up a time to meet, have a coffee or beer with him. And I intended to, while assuming that I had plenty of time to do so. So I put it on the back burner as I lived my life. And then Facebook told me that I was out of time. Coulda, shoulda, woulda.
Since then, I've been trying to reach out more sincerely to people. To make that coffee date. To have that long overdue chat. To value the now, and not just assume in the future. Two months prior to Nicky's passing, my elderly grandmother passed away. I kept meaning to call her. I never did. And now all I have to say to her will remain unsaid until we are reunited one day, God willing.
I suppose that the very faint silver lining in all of this very grey dreariness, is that Nicky taught me something as he left this world behind. While it's easy to succumb to grief, to wrack your brain for answers to the whys and certainly to be angry, I believe Nicky was telling us something else that is easy to overlook, which is this: Never take anything or anyone for granted. Never assume that you will have the luxury of putting something off until later. Right here and right now is more important than dwelling in what might have been and what has already happened, and the future hasn't happened yet. Even when the now is painful, it's what we have to work with, and it will ultimately decide the direction that we go in the future.
So catch up with your old friends. Keep the Skype date even when you aren't feeling well. Call your grandma. Tell the people you love that you love them. Say the things that you don't want to remain unsaid.
Life can change in a moment, and sometimes, the quickly passing moments in life is all you have with someone who means a lot to you.