My friend Beth has died. Her husband, also my friend, died just before his birthday in July. Her birthday would have been December 7th. Just coincidence but makes it all a little more surreal. I wish I had called her more often. She had been in and out of the hospital since last December and never let me know til she was home. That was Beth. I talked to her several times around Homer’s death but often felt like I was tiring her out. I thought that the phone lines went both way.
I guess we weren’t so close in recent years. But she had been one of my best friends. We were always doing stuff together when we both lived in Wyoming. Whether it was driving 140 miles to go to lunch or the three of us going to the July 4th celebration at Mount Rushmore and getting rained out. Homer had the best stories about dealing with my dog, Fred. Beth and I went camping with her dogs and Fred many many times. I taught her little dog Goliath to drink Frapuccinos and even though she hated coffee, she’d occasionally buy him a little bottle of frapuccino just to give him a tiny amount. She would invite me over for Saturday morning breakfast with biscuits and gravy because Goliath and I loved it – she hated it.
Remember when Who Wants to be a Millionaire was first on? I had satellite TV and Beth had cable. I had a New York feed and a Los Angeles feed. The LA feed coincided with our local broadcast, for some reason. I used to watch the show on the earlier feed and then watch with Beth over the phone. She was amazed at how much I knew! I don’t remember whether she figured it out or I confessed but it was a lot of laughs.
There were so many little things. Funny things. Annoying things. She and Homer were my family in Wyoming. We had our tragedies. Today, I don’t think is for remembering tragedies.