April 4: Dick Wilkins, Thinking About Old Friends

"Dick Wilkins, to be sure!" said Scrooge to the Ghost.  "Bless me, yes.  There he is.  He was very much attached to me, was Dick.  Poor Dick!  Dear, dear!"

Scrooge is talking about a childhood companion who worked with him at Fezziwig's.  There's a great deal of joy in Scrooge's little exclamation, but it ends on a fairly melancholy note.  That "Poor Dick" and "Dear, dear" Scrooge utters intimates a sad end to his relationship with Dick.  Or a sad end to Dick.

But that's the nature of friendship.  Friends come into your life.  Friends disappear from your life.  After I read this little passage from A Christmas Carol, I started thinking about some of my old school friends, how they've drifted on and off my radar in the years since graduation.

One of my best friends is still a part of my life, even though he lives in Florida.  "Gary" grew up with me.  His older brother was killed in a car accident when Gary was really young.  His mother never really recovered from the loss.  Gary was more like a brother than a friend to me.  He went camping with my family.  He came to all the birthday parties of my brothers and sisters.  Even now, when my siblings go on vacation to Florida, Gary meets them at Disney World and spends the days with them.  And when Gary comes back to the Upper Peninsula, the first place he stops is his dad's house.  The second place he stops is my parents' house.

My other best friend from high school, "Patrick," has vanished from my life.  The last time I saw Patrick was at his father's funeral.  Patrick was always the good-looking, fun-loving one.  He was the life of the party.  A hard drinker.  A risk-taker.  I can't tell you how many girls Patrick slept with in high school.  He started with the seniors and worked his way through the sophomores.  I think he graduated before he hit the freshman.  At his father's funeral, Patrick looked tired and hung-over.  The years hadn't been kind to him.  He had a beer belly and a red nose.  I barely said a word to him at the funeral home.  I hugged him.  Told him how sorry I was.  That was it.  I could have been talking to a complete stranger.

Of course, I have close friends now.  Friends I would mourn losing.  Perhaps that's why Scrooge ends his exclamation about Dick Wilkins the way he does.  He's expressing affection and loss for a friend, for his childhood.

That's what Saint Marty's doing in this post, too.  Expressing affection and loss.  Poor Gary.  Poor Patrick.  Dear, dear.

Another Gary and Patrick