AND THEN THERE WAS ONE

I've been thinking about friendships and how important they have been in my own life. There have been many people, both male and female, who have been very meaningful to me throughout the years. Some I still have, but I especially remember three friends I had in my twenties on into my forties: Sylvia, Terry, and Julie.

The four of us met in our mid twenties and all of us had a connection of some kind to each other. Three of us had husbands who worked for IBM; a different three had boys the same age who played together once a week. Sylvia, Julie, and I played tennis together, while Terry and her husband attended the same church the genius and I did. We were all about the same ages and we all played bridge together in a group with our spouses. We spent many happy hours together, sometimes taking vacations, other times just visiting with each other.

The first thing that happened to splinter our little group was that Terry and her husband moved to a town about 2 hours away. The genius and I still kept in touch with them, traveling up to see them often or vise-versa. Several times Sylvia and I went to stay with Terry and played in a tennis tournament held in a nearby town. We still had many happy times together, just not as frequently.

Then Sylvia and her husband began to have troubles and eventually they separated and divorced. She moved away to pursue a career in nursing and the genius and I lost touch with both of them, much to our sorrow.

About the same time as all this was taking place, Julie became lost while driving home one day. She was eventually diagnosed with a brain tumor and her prognosis was bleak. Sylvia, who had finished her degree and had moved back to town, helped care for Julie until her death.

As the years went by, Sylvia moved to Florida and about five years ago I read in the paper that she too had died. The genius and I attended her memorial service where we saw Terry and her husband. We had still kept in touch but our paths had gone in different directions and we rarely saw each other.

A few weeks ago the genius and I drove to Terry's small town to attend the visitation with her family; she, too, had passed on.

It's a strange feeling to be the last one left; I can't really describe it. I'm sad about the losses, of course, and the end of happy times. But I can't help but be realistic about my situation either: I'm almost seventy and the grim reaper could be close. (Of course, any of us could go at any time.)

Still, it's very sobering to dwell on these things, but since there's not a thing I can do about it, I will just enjoy whatever time I have left.

And keep writing my blog!!