a good friend

I Just Love a Good Story. Don’t you just Love a Good Story?

Here is another Good Story.

A Lost Friend

A friend called earlier this month to tell me how happy she was on one hand, but very sad and concerned. She’d reconnected with a long, lost friend. She said she hadn’t seen or heard from him, the guy she loved and dated for six years, since he told her he was getting married. After their relationship, they ended up being good and close friends for a year before he found someone else and devoted his time to her. As she talked, I wondered what it would be like to reconnect with someone I was close to years ago. Why the separation? How would I greet my friend? Would I feel guilty because I didn’t keep up with her or him? Would the friend feel guilty and shy away from me?

My friend said her friend had fallen on hard times after his first year of college. He lost his parents and didn’t have the money, so he dropped out of school after midway his second year in college. He tried to find a job, but no one hired him. He also married (another woman) just before he entered college, making his life more challenging. For the life of me, I don’t understand why her friend wouldn’t tell anyone, and/or ask for help.

He separated from his wife, leaving her the apartment. She had a part-time job, and he didn’t want her to support him on her salary. He continued looking for a job, but no one hired him. Before he knew it, he found himself living on the streets. Initially, he thought he would only be out of a home and on the streets for a week or two, but years later he was still living where he could, even in shelters, when he could. In the shelters, he always ended up being the victim of theft or some man trying to rape him. Frequently, he had to fight his way out of the shelter. Like homeless men, he chose to live on the street or find a corner no one knew about, which was unlikely. When he found a place, that place didn’t work out for various reasons.

My friend told me he told her he could never get enough to eat and taking food from places where the homeless could eat became a way of life. The workers in these food places understood and would, occasionally, bring him, and others, extra food. Other places only gave everyone a sparse helping of everything and the homeless had to leave after they’d finished for others to come in and eat.

In the fights, he usually ended up injured. These injuries had to heal on their own. Hospitals and clinics weren’t eager to take in a dirty, smelly man. He remembered when he was employed or in school, the times he came across a homeless person. He wondered why and how it happened. He’d never thought he’d be in a situation like that. Now, he can’t relate to being homed. He said, no one asks to be homeless. It happens when your life gets out of control, when there’s no job or money coming in; when no one can take you in because they don’t trust you; when you lose your home and all your possessions such as your personal high school graduation pictures and diploma, pictures of your family and your parents sitting by the fireplace in their beautifully decorated house, pictures of your siblings, your wedding pictures, the time you played baseball, the times you won the Spelling Bees in elementary school; your birthday celebrations, your Christmas presents, the birth of your child, and the family at the table eating with a large turkey in the center; and the lives of your relatives. When you are homeless, you take only what you will need. The rest of your life, you have to discard. It is because the homeless person feels left out of the life he/she once knew. They no longer belong to that life. They no longer have the life everyone else has.

He is now in a nursing home. Somehow, he qualified for service. How that happened may be another story. I didn’t ask about it. My friend said he barely remembers her and doesn’t remember their relationship or the things they did together. Isn’t this another way of coping? It would be better not to remember, not to think about all the good you had before the new life of homelessness. Why try to remember something you will never have again? The situation won’t change. Is he trying not to remember; refusing to let her in? How far should she go? How hard should she push? She doesn’t know. Is he waiting to see if she wants to be involved? Should she worry? She should follow her heart. That’s what I’d tell her should she ask. My friend is trying to jog his memory, but he stares at her with empty eyes and an empty heart as he shrugs his shoulders.

My friend is gravely disappointed to see this once vibrant man who with his energy for life filled her with happiness and vigor, who wanted to be a dentist, now dirty, his body filled with scars, bruises, cuts, and who suffers from inner physical problems and emotional insecurity and emotional problems beaten down by homelessness. My friend said when she goes near him, he automatically goes into a defense mode.

His wife, they never divorced, does not recognize him at all. This man may never be his true self again, the man everyone once knew and loved who had everything going for him. My friend said she can’t stop crying for the loss of her friend and confidant.

His wife feels guilty that she didn’t make him stay. She said they could have worked it out. She wanted to let him know he has a daughter. She didn’t know she was pregnant until after he left. She always wanted her daughter to meet her father.

Have you reconnected with a relative or someone you new years ago? What did you do? How did it turn out? Are you satisfied with the results? Is your friend or relative satisfied with the results? My friend needs to know what it is like for others. Please help her.

That’s all for now. Isn’t this a Good Story? Please comment. I would love to know your thoughts. Until next time.