Tonight, after phoning the few relatives I have left, and a couple of people I know locally, just to talk, and getting no response from any of them, I sent emails to two old friends, one in upstate New York and the other in Australia, both fellow widowers — to wit:
I must be dead, I have lost all contact with the living, even the lawn guy who lives three miles away.
To which the guy in upstate New York promptly replied:
Not so long as I’m doing research for you — The actress whose name we couldn’t remember last time we talked — about pretty women — is Kelli Giddish, Law and Order SVU. Lips to die for.
The email ended with a P.S. — You have a “lawn guy”??? wtf.
Which immediately triggered those ‘feel-good’ chemicals in my body, the good old endorphins, bringing forth a hearty laugh from my miserable soul.
I emailed back: Bless you, brother, and thank you for much needed contact with a friend — this loneliness is a capricious son of a bitch.
And then — embarrassment of riches — the friend in Australia who I’ve known since we spent a student summer mis-sorting mail in the post office, ‘rang up.’ That made my night.
Man, I tell ya, friends beat relatives every time.
Most definitely…and those mysterious ways often lead to the best paths.
Snarky friends are the best.
Thanks for dropping by the hovel Mitch. Be careful going home — don’t pick up hitchhikers.