A Tribute to an Unforgettable Friend

A chance meeting ... a smile that so uplifted my beaten spirit ... a cherished memory that is forever unforgettable, that still warms my heart today.

I worked late on that early spring night in 1987.  It was already after 10 p.m. when I headed home and, almost as an afterthought realized I hadn't even had dinner yet.  I remembered an all-night restaurant on my way, and thought that might be my best option.

 

Somehow, on the interstate, I missed my exit and almost decided to forget the whole thing.  In my state of mind, I wasn't thinking about food anyway.  I couldn't get out of my mind the incredible burdens I had been carrying for the last six months.  My wife had left me, I had lost my job and was now working a menial, low-paying job only until I could find something better.

 

I had planned to move into a mobil home, using my half of the equity from the sale of our house when my wife and I split.  Before I could move in, however, the gas company came out to turn on the heat and the technician neglected to check for leaks.  Within minutes after he left, the trailer exploded and burned down.  When I arrived with a U-Haul full of furniture, I was greeted with a mass of twisted metal and charred wood.

 

Though I tried for awhile to keep my head above water, I ultimately had to succumb to bankruptcy.  I was now renting a room in a private home.  One thing I found out quickly, no matter how inobtrusive I tried to be, I was an intruder.  My furniture and personal belongings were in a rented storage facility.  It seemed like this nightmare would never end.

 

I took the next available exit off the interstate and, lo and behold, looking off to the left, I saw another all-night restaurant, one of a famous national brand, near a large shopping center.  It was not exactly a good neighborhood to be in, especially late at night, but I decided, what the hell.  Maybe relaxing for a few minutes with a good meal may help take my mind off things.

 

I must admit, with all that was going on around me, I hadn't so much as smiled in such a long time.  It seemed my whole life was heart attacks and brain surgery.  Nothing was funny.  Nothing was even pleasant.  It was like a dark cloud followed me around everywhere.  Then, I walked into that restaurant -- and met Michelle K. Immediately, I was introduced to the quirkiest, most off-the-wall sense of humor I have ever experienced.  Within a minute, she had me -- not smiling -- but laughing out loud.

 

When I left the restaurant that night, I felt much better than I had these last few months -- and the food had nothing to do with it.  I don't even remember what I had, but I do remember Michelle.

 

Next time I worked late, I headed for what was now my favorite spot for a meal, hoping I would see this charming and beautiful young lady who had so lifted my spirits.  When someone else waited my table, I asked for Michelle, though I was sorry I did.  I think I embarrassed her and may have created some problems with her and her co-workers.  I never did that again.  I didn't have to.  I noticed every time I returned, she made it a point to be my server.

 

Over time, we actually became good friends.  Initially, it was just kidding around with each other.  I also enjoyed seeing the response of other customers around me who she would serve.  Her unique personality kind of caught a lot of them by surprise.  It was priceless.

 

Our conversations were not always silly kidding around.  That was just an ice-breaker.  We found out we were on the same page.  I had forgotten there was that much nonsense in me.  Sometimes, we had some serious talk, though it was not always convenient, especially if she had a lot of customers.  I hope I never dumped on her the things I was going through.  I don't remember what I said.  I was much more interested in what she said.

 

I learned she had come here from another state and that she had a boyfriend, a childhood sweetheart back home, who she loved very much.  Let me say right away there was never anything between us romantically.  I was 30 years older than she.  I respected her and would have never done anything inappropriate.  She was very observant and could "read" people pretty well.  She quickly picked out some things about me I wasn't even aware were that apparent to the casual observer.  She seemed comfortable in our friendship and knew that she could trust me.  I would never have betrayed that trust.  Our friendship became one of mutual respect.

 

Though her explanations never went that far, I could just about imagine some of the burdens she was carrying as well.  A lot of people come to our city because of the large resort area nearby.  A good portion relocate.  With Michelle it was different.  I imagined her boyfriend had promised to marry her, then suddenly was hit with that very familiar male syndrome -- cold feet.  She decided it was time to put a little distance between them and for both of them to think about it awhile.  So here she was, alone in a strange city, with no family or friends around for support -- although I'm sure she made friends pretty easily -- co-workers, neighbors, etc.  It seemed, though, she worked all the time.  No matter what time of the day or night I went to that restaurant, she was always there.

 

If my speculations were correct -- it worked.  It wasn't long before Michelle announced that she was going back home to be married.  Thank God the boyfriend came to his senses.  He knew he had a winner right under his nose and he would have been a fool to let her slip away.  Though I knew I was going to miss Michelle greatly, she was so happy, I couldn't help but be happy for her.  She was going home just in time for the holidays, and I just knew that special Christmas gift was going to be a ring.  I told her to be sure and send me an invitation to the wedding and, I don't know if she thought I was just kidding, I would have tried my best, by hook or crook, to be there, even though it was several states away.

 

She told me her scheduled date of departure.  I made plans to bring her a bouquet and a card, honoring our friendship.  One night, on a rare night off for me and supposedly a week or so before her last night, I made a spur of the moment decision to go to the restaurant for dinner -- and to see Michelle.  It was then I got the shocking news.  She had moved up her departure plans.  This was her last night!  If I hadn't just chanced to come by, I would have missed it.  She laughed and said, "It was fate."  God, how I was going to miss that laugh.

 

I hadn't yet purchased the flowers, now it was too late.  I did have the card, though, on which I had scrawled my heartfelt thoughts.  I went out to the car to get it and presented it to her.  She took it to the back and read it and soon returned and sat down with me at my table.  You could see she was really moved at my words, thanking her for how much she had meant to me over these last few months.  We exchanged addresses, promised to stay in touch, hugged, and I left the restaurant, never to see Michelle again.

 

We did actually write a couple of "snail mail" letters.  Remember, this was 1987, before I had ever heard of e-mail.  Not too many folks had personal computers in those days.  We exchanged Christmas cards that year as well.  I still have hers and I get it out from time to time to read it, especially the sweet little note she included, when I need a smile.

 

Finally, the wedding came.  I never did get an invitation, but I understand they probably just wanted to keep it small, with family and a few friends they both had grown up with.  I didn't write her anymore.  I didn't feel it was appropriate to be writing to someone's wife.  Her new husband didn't know me, and I didn't want him to think I was some old boyfriend she had met while she was away from him.  They needed time to re-establish their relationship and a life together.

 

Of course, I never forgot Michelle.  She is the kind of person anyone whose life she touched could never forget.  I thought of her from time to time, wondering how she was getting along, but we both had gone our separate ways and moved on with our lives.  She was there at a time when I needed a friend and I like to think maybe I was there for her also.  I'll never forget that beautiful smile, that engaging sense of humor.  My life is richer for having known her, if only for a short while.

 

I really believe God sends someone into our lives at just the right time to help us in times of testing.  No, she wasn't an angel, at least I don't think so.  She didn't have wings.  I would love to have the chance to see her again someday, if not in this life, then in Heaven.  Naturally, I would like to meet her husband also.  He must be a pretty special guy.  They are still married, as far as I know.  In a time when marriages fall apart at the slightest sign of trouble, they have endured.  Mine is one of those that didn't and I accept the responsibility for that.  I don't play the blame game.  Time heals all wounds, or wounds all heels, as they say -- sometimes both.  I have overcome a lot of things in my life, especially all of those stressful days I was dealing with back in 1987.  I have survived two cancers and, believe me, they were each a picnic compared to my life back then.  Now semi-retired, I am enjoying my senior years in peace and harmony.

 

I never remarried.  For awhile I tried to get back into a social life, but was in for a real culture shock.  I love women and have enjoyed many female friendships, but no special relationships have come along, but that's o.k.  I have learned to live independently.  One thing I know for sure -- there are no more Michelles out there.

 

I only went back to that restaurant one time.  She had requested in one of her letters that when I did, to say "Hi!" to everybody for her.  I did mention to a couple of her co-workers and the manager that she sent her regards.  It was obvious they really missed her.  She was really a hard worker, loyal and dependable.  I never had a reason to return.  It just wouldn't be the same.  I found a cafeteria in another part of the area that was more convenient to me.  Also, I had just begun a new job and was also attending community college, working towards an associate's degree.  Like Michelle, it was the beginning of a new chapter in my life -- only I was starting over at age 50.

 

I must admit to being technologically challenged, but I finally decided to join the 21st Century.  I took the plunge and purchased a computer.  It's been interesting, but over time, I'm beginning to figure things out, mostly through trial and error.  I also took a couple of computer classes at the library and also purchased a tutorial disc to work on at home.

 

One of the things I love to do is research.  I started trying to do searches on some old friends I had lost touch with over the years -- classmates, co-workers, travel companions, etc.  I actually found all of them.  I was surprised how easy it was.  Some had passed away.  Some were spread out, all over the country, from Washington state to Florida.  I even found Michelle.  That was really surprising, since I didn't know her married name, plus she and her husband now live in the Northeast U.S.  I was overjoyed to find her and to know she was still out there, brightening up the world.

 

I debated sending her a Christmas card.  It had been over 25 years since I had seen her and I didn't know if she would even remember me.  I started to send it anonymously, with just a short note, "Greetings from an old, old friend from N------."  I finally decided it would be more appropriate if I addressed it to both of them (Mr. and Mrs.) and signed it openly.  Good grief!  What is the harm of wishing someone a Merry Christmas, even in this politically correct world?  I heard no response, but I didn't expect to.

 

I tried to make contact with several old acquaintances, most of whom never responded.  I did hear from a couple of old high school classmates and an army buddy from my days at Fort Knox over 50 years ago.  It was good to make those connections.  There are some friendships that are just worth keeping -- or at least worth remembering.