Friendships come and go over time. We may have lost touch, grew apart, burnt bridges between us, but that has never stop me from grieving the losses of friendships that go. Today, I stumbled across an obituary of a high school friend. She was my best friend at the time and she fell in the “lost touch” category. She moved back to the Maritimes, while I moved back up north. We both left the urban jungle of Montreal and moved back to our family, back to our roots. We met up a couple of years after graduation on my first attempt at post secondary education. I had a small apartment in the same neighbourhood I lived in when I was in high school. We caught up on life after graduation. When our ten year class reunion rolled around, I was already back up north and never got to meet up with her. I told myself someday we may be able to meet up and see each other again. Every once in a while, I would wonder how my best friend was doing, always with the intention that I would somehow find her address, email or postal, and write to her. I wondered if we would ever cross paths again or perhaps bump into each other by chance. When I found my friends obituary, within minutes I cried. It didn’t matter that I found out almost two months later, I lost the chance to ever meet up with her again. I lost the chance to share stories of love, of loss, the adventures, the ambitions and the things we are passionate about now, as women. I lost a friend. There is my grief... Here is my tribute: My friend Chantal was a beautiful, charismatic girl. It didn't matter that she was popular and I wasn't. We were simply friends. The butterfly and the wallflower, it’s how I see us back then. I enjoyed her company hanging out with a group of friends in downtown Montreal, window shopping or going to movies. Chantal would not be deterred by what seemed to be the shy girl or assume that she was a snob, she just approached me and started talking to me, and we became fast friends. I always remembered her birthday because she was only two days older than me. I will miss you Chantal. Every time I drive the James Bay highway, there is an S.O.S. phone both on the highway that shares your name. I always think about you and reminisce. You made my high school years fun instead of the awkward mess it could have been. You even put up with my crazy antics and perverted humour. You even supported me when I was close to throwing in the towel and quitting school. I thank you for being there for me and I wish I had been able to be there for you in the end. My heart is heavy tonight and I may shed a few more tears before I fall asleep. I hope to have you visit me in my dreams so I can properly say goodbye to you. I love you my dear friend. In the spirit of friendship, |
0 Comments
|
Archives
June 2018
Categories
All
|