| Cathy called |
[Mar. 8th, 2008|09:22 pm] |
I saw her last on Wednesday, June 23, 1965; it was the day we were graduated from high school. I don't recall speaking to her then, or, indeed, before that. But she remembered that over the years Elli had spoken of me as a friend, and I thought so of myself, though I had not seen her since some time in the late '80s or early '90s. Jane -- I know Jane since third grade, but have not seen her for a couple of decades -- Jane was worried that she hadn't heard from Elli for a couple of years, and called Cathy. Cathy remembered that Elli had been in Reichian therapy for many years, and called the Reich institute in Maine, and they told her that they had received a legacy from her when she died, on September 6, 2006. Under what circumstances, I have no idea.
Elli was never a romantic interest of mine, though I never convinced Maya of that, and gave up on the attempt. She was, however, one of those people with a clearly defined view of the world, philosophy of life, call it what you will, with whom I always felt myself to be in a kind of dialogue. A dialogue which is now over with the finality that death had for her. Indeed, it is probably fair to say that she rather despised any other view of the matter, though perhaps not all of us who could conceive other views.
I promised to try to contact Lynda, whom I have seen perhaps once since graduation, and who is now quite the successful businesswoman, as the one best able to break the news to Jane. And because the last time I saw Elli, she expressed regret at having cut Lynda out of her life for taking a job she took as a form of collaboration in the wicked capitalist system -- it was, after all, the end of the '60s. A sad, confused time for our sorry generation. |
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| Comments: |
I can identify with this. I have left so many people behind, and now I wish I hadn't.
And this one worked so hard to make people leave her behind, and we wish we hadn't let her get away with it.
I'm sorry you've lost someone you considered a friend. Isn't it funny how even though you may not have spoken for years, hearing of their loss can bring them back in such vivid detail?
I don't have all that many friends, fewer who go back to 1959, which is, I guess, years and years before you were born. There were three of four really strange people in junior high school, more than that, of course, but three or four who sort of recognized each other and kept in (distant) touch. You know, something tells me you would have fit right in. Be afraid, be very afraid... | |
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