Elmore

I wrote this awhile back. I considered Elmore one of my best friends during college.  This week would be our friendship anniversary and this piece of writing...well, you'll see.  

Last semester a friend of mine died and I found out a week later...on facebook. We've been friends for a few years now and would sit down and talk every few weeks. He was always very sick, a weak heart.  I knew he wouldnt be around forever, the 60 year age gap clued me in, but for some reason I thought I'd be leaving him first, as selfish as that sounds--that I would be off and living in the real world before he left forever. In a way, I suppose I figured I would "die" to him rather than him dying before I was ready, before I had gained enough wisdom or heard enough stories. 

            On November 20th, I logged on to facebook planning to write him a message but there was no need because a closing message already permeated his board. It was from a nephew congratulating Elmore on going to be with the Lord. Obviously an automatic emotion is regret... why did I not visit more, ask more questions, or show him the picture of my sisters that he always wanted to see? Next time, I'll bring it. But what if there is no next time?Or what if the next time is at the cemetery after the visitation and the funeral have already passed?What do you do when a friend dies and no one thinks to tell you because you're 21 and a girl and not a family member, but some completely random college student visiting this 80-year-old man who you have absolutely nothing in common with besides the fact that you're both human and you used to play the oboe like his granddaughter does now, and that one time you made him a Christmas card but unfortunately made it backwards and gave it to him anyway and he laughed saying that he knew we were true friends because only true friends could give each other backwards Christmas cards without being embarrassed? You find out on facebook, pray that it's some sort of mistake, and run out to the cemetery. The fresh dirt confirms the truth that you disliked on facebook and you walk into your dorm two hours later covered in the dirt that covers him.