My Childhood Best Friend Has Died

 Yesterday was a hard day for me. It was the anniversary of my father’s passing… and the day I found out my childhood best friend had died from cancer.

I’ve only mentioned him once in this blog (https://catholicnerdwriter.blogspot.com/2021/11/what-one-of-my-most-significant.html?m=0) but he played a big role in helping me realize things about myself, like how I was just a natural writer from a young age. 

I wish I could say I was there for him during his battle with cancer but I didn’t find out until it was too late. I wish I could say that I prayed for him when he most needed it. I wish I could’ve talked to him once more before he passed. And I wish I could’ve had the chance to tell him that he partially inspired the character of Noah. 

Novel four spoiler: I have a character named Noah. The friendship between Noah and the main character is very similar to the one that Rudy (that was his name) and I had. Not entirely similar but I definitely took my experience in having a male best friend growing up to build this specific friendship in (still untitled) novel four. There are also some personality traits of Rudy’s that I gave Noah. Again, not entire as Noah is a mix of Rudy and two other good guy friends as well as my own imagination. But, yeah. I was actually hoping to reconnect with him by sending him a copy of the finished novel and telling him about how he helped inspire part of Noah. 

I’m still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that he’s no longer here. It’s weird. He’s the first friend from childhood that has passed. At least, the only one I’ve known about. I think it’ll eventually hit me as his birthday comes around next month and I’m reminded. Birthdays always hit me the hardest when someone is gone. He was so young — in his 30s — but cancer knows no age.

It may seem weird to people that I’ve started mourning his death because we hadn’t been in contact for years. It seems weird to me, too, but at the same time it doesn’t because of the friendship we had. From ages 5-19 (20 for him; he was a year older) he was my constant friend. Other friends came and went but he was always there. I always got along better with guys than girls (I was a tomboy growing up) and our friendship was always so well balanced. I’ve already written about that so I won’t repeat myself. Until we got into our teens and feelings started making things a little harder, the friendship was so pure and simple. We never fought. We brought out the best in each other. That’s why his death hit me the way it did; the memories of a beautiful friendship. 

Do I regret not keeping in touch? Yes and no. I would’ve loved to have been there for him but I think our friendship would’ve naturally gone in opposite directions as we grew older and our priorities changed. I reverted to Catholicism and did an almost 180. He also changed quite a bit, especially after he met the woman who became his fiancé in the last years of his life. Our lifestyles would’ve been at odds. We would’ve had to work hard to maintain the friendship with how much we both changed. And friendships with the opposite sex also naturally change as we get older and we enter our vocations. We would’ve had to eventually have distance once significant others entered the picture.

I had a couple of intrusive thoughts after the news had sunk in last night. Would I have been good for him if I’d stuck around in his life? If I had agreed to marry him (as his mother had fought so hard to make a reality) or if I had just kept in touch, could I have made a difference in his life? Could I have helped him not go the extremes he did during the last years of his life? But I knew immediately that, no. It wouldn’t have changed anything. I wouldn’t have changed anything… except pray for him sooner. God knew where we both had to end up. I honestly think I would’ve ended up where I am now — ready to make my vows as a bride of Christ — no matter what. And I know that my faith would’ve also cause some friction as we wouldn’t have agreed on many things as young adults.

I actually had a dream that he had come to visit me the night before I found out the news. In the dream — in which my dad also made a brief appearance — he had come over to my apartment to see if we could make a relationship work between us. In my typical Emmy (that he knew) fashion, I laughed and said that, while I loved him (but not like that; platonically), I was actually going to become a consecrated virgin. That’s how I said it — not that I was discerning but that it was pretty much a done deal. I remember he was surprised but understanding and even supportive. Even in the dream it seemed weird that he was okay with it because his Evangelical Christian faith doesn’t have anything close to this vocation.

The dream was actually what made me look for him, to seeing how he was doing. He hadn’t been active on his social media in a long time (now I know why) but then I saw his fiancé write about his passing and… ufff. Punch to the gut.

I started adding him to my list of recently departed that I add to the last decade of my daily Rosary. I try to remember the names for 9 days, a sort of novena for their souls. I hope that, wherever he is, he died in peace. I know we can offer up things for people who have passed so maybe I’ll do that as well, especially when I go back to the hospital for more wound care and when I have my next surgical procedure (scheduled for this upcoming Friday). As I said, he wasn’t Catholic and I have no idea where his soul is but I can still hope and pray he, in God’s mercy, is somewhere he can eventually spend eternity with God. Who knows, maybe he converted at some point and I just don’t know. 

Anyway, just wanted to get these thoughts out of my head. 

Rudy,

Thank you for being there for me while we grew up. Thank you for being such a great friend during some of craziest years of our lives. Thank you for teaching me how to skateboard, even if I almost killed myself in the process. Thank you for all those hours of conversations by the pool while we did homework together or while you drew and I wrote. I’ll never forget how your way of letting me know that you were outside was by getting out your drumsticks and annoying the neighbors until I came outside. Thank you for letting me be my weird, silly self without making me feel like there was something seriously wrong with me. 

Thank you for all those notebooks and pens you gave me every year for my birthday. Thank you for helping me realize how much I loved writing. You unintentionally got my writing career started. 

Thank you for the painting of Christ knocking on a closed door for my 18th birthday. It was one of the last gifts you gave me… and it set the tone to how my adulthood would unfold. Who would’ve thought I would’ve gotten to where I am now?

I hope you’re resting in peace, forever gazing at He who loves/loved us so much He sent His son — my (God willing) future Spouse — for our salvation.

I’ll have a Capri-Sun and some cookies in your honor soon. Oh, and I’ll bug the neighbors with some strumming, too. I don’t know if I still have drumsticks but I’ll find substitutes if needed. Ha!