Saturday was the anniversary of my friend John's passing. I still miss him, and I continue working on accepting that his death even happened. He was a part of the warp and woof of my life and you don't just lose that without major ramifications.
Fortunately Gregory noticed Saturday's date, too. He invited five of us to dinner.* We were five planets who had rotated around John's sun for decades, and it was good to spend the evening together. Also, Gregory cooked! Chicken and pasta with cream sauce, green beans, and cornbread, then brownies for dessert. I literally cannot recall my last home cooked meal.
I was amused by how different this Saturday was from our Saturdays back in the day. In the 80s it was all about sex, romance and careers. Instead of dancing at a club and then trying to find a greasy spoon open at 2:00 AM on Sunday morning, we met around Gregory's kitchen table at 5:00 PM and I was putting my key in my front door before 11:00 PM.
Now Wes wants to retire to Florida within the next three years, but mother (still in her own apartment at 96) is not willing to live in The South. Jeremy is the only one of us still working full-time. He's a speech therapist for students K-3 and oh! Does he have funny, affectionate stories to tell about the kids in his care. He and Wes went to Japan together last summer and hope to visit Spain this summer. He's not sure they will be able to travel internationally after the 2025-26 school year, when Jeremy will retire and he and Wes are both on pensions. Lori is now retired, and the mom she took care of for years has passed away, so she got her first-ever dog. She wishes she'd begun pet parenthood when she was younger and had more energy. Gregory has been retired for six years now and is considering a part-time gig like mine. He also has several of John's posters – inexpensive, silly, campy pieces – that John had displayed with thumbtacks on the wall. Gregory is going to have them matted and framed, and we all laughed at how our friend's crappy pictures were about go uptown.
I looked around the table and realized I was the only straight white woman in attendance. I think that was John's greatest gift to me. I grew up in such a narrow world, with only people whose experiences were like mine. My kid sister and my oldest friend still surround themselves with WASPs because it's what they know and it's what's most comfortable. I'm so lucky I met John. He introduced me to people who grew up very rich and very poor, to blacks and gays. Our country is vast and mixed and it's made me a better, more empathic citizen. For example, when people rail against DEI and want to rewrite American history to minimize Jim Crow, they don't take into account people like Wes, his siblings, and his nieces and nephews. They grew up with a matriarch who is afraid to live south of St. Louis because as a child in Arkansas, she literally saw lynched bodies hanging from trees. That happened. I will now consider the expense of denying it because I talked to and listen to Wes. And I met Wes because of John.Of course, John was more than my own personal AP civics class. He held my hand during bad break ups. He ate hot dogs and drank beer with me at Cub games. (We saw Anthony Rizzo's first Wrigley Field home run together!) We celebrated birthdays and Thanksgivings. We visited one another in the hospital and mourned our parents together.
But in addition to all that, he did expand my worldview, and I am eternally grateful.
*Vanessa couldn't make it. She was in some faraway burb for the weekend, helping with a sick relative.