Another long-time friend has passed. He was the significant other of a friend I met through work affiliations in another state many years ago. They split up and he moved to my hometown. I moved to another state but eventually moved back home.
He was very supportive when I moved back. He did anything from loaning ladders and giving repair advice to the occasional pizza dinner. He had a really cool scaffolding system I used to wallpaper my staircase.
He was a truly good person. I understood why he broke up with my friend. She was high maintenance. She was beautiful and vivacious but very high maintenance. Exhaustingly high maintenance. After I moved, I rarely saw her. Eventually I never heard from her again. I never missed her.
He, on the other hand, was Mr. Super Nice Guy. He was a decade older than me. We never clicked as anything other than friends. Eventually he met a great lady and they married. We stayed in touch for many years. We would do dinners.
It’s been many years since I’ve seen him and his death made me reflect on why. Other than moving to the same town, we didn’t have much in common. He loved classical music exclusively. I need a good dose of hard rock to get my cleaning done and my groove going. He has dogs and I have cats. He doesn’t own a pair of jeans. Well, you know how this is going.
He was athletic in a way I wasn’t. He did those vacations where you say, “Wow! That’s cool!” but deep down in your heart you know it’s not your cuppa tea. There is no way I would do it. I played racquet sports like tennis and racquetball. He found them boring.
He was a bicyclist. He took several vacations where you bike all day through a rural area with lots of small towns and stay overnight at a bed and breakfast. It was with a group. If something happened, there were vans to take you to the next location. I would be a frequent flyer on the van for sure but when he described it, it sounded lovely.
When I read his obit, I wondered by I hadn’t reached out to meet up with he and his wife. It was too hard. We had some good times but with diverse interests sometimes the conversation didn’t flow. It started to feel more like a duty thing. The nail in the coffin was when his wife developed health issues that restricted the foods she could eat. Pizza was definitely out of the question as were salads, red meat and most other things. They had no interest in going out to eat and I had no idea what to serve. Our mutual love of food had ended. Years passed and no invitations happened on either end. Then he died.
Some people are friends for a season or friends for a reason. He fit in that category. He was a great guy and I thank him for being supportive during my difficult move.