Today, I received a postcard from a dead guy. . .

I received a note in the mail today.  It read as follows:

Dear Random Broad,

I found the postcard I am sending while looking through my brother's things.  I found your address (the last one in the book) in the funeral directory.  I thought I should send it to you.

Sincerely,

Dead Guy's Sister

The postcard read:

Dear Random Broad,

Our vacation is great fun.  This is a lovely and passionate place.  Love it.

Dead Guy

So Dead Guy's a dude I used to work with.  We became really good friends.  He was older (nearing 60, I think).  He was the rockin'est dead guy I've ever known.  He was witty, smart, well-traveled, spoke four languages, well-read, a snappy dresser and fun.  He was a bit of a Luddite, so I often helped him with computer-related tasks.  I helped him file his taxes electronically, plan and make the necessary purchases for his vacations, save and print his files, etc.  He'd stop by my office and regale me with his various adventures of yore.  He really brightened my day and I looked forward to seeing him. 

Dead Guy was also very sickly.  He lost a lung to cancer way before I ever met him.  Every time he got sick, I'd be a little worried.  When I left that company, we promised we'd keep in touch.  But just like most people whose friendships blossomed in the workplace, we didn't.  More time went by between email messages, calls and cards.  When a mutual friend told me he was sick and in the hospital, I immediately went out and bought a card.  I was too busy to actually take the time out and send him a note.  I told myself I'd take the time out to write to him next week and send it to him at home, after his inevitable release from the hospital.

He died the next week.

I attended his funeral, told his siblings how much he meant to me, signed the death book (or whatever it's called) and went on with my life.  That was months ago.Today's surprise was bittersweet.  I mean, I remember asking our mutual friend to make sure she helped Dead Guy plan his vacation.  You see, dead guy went on an annual vacation to the Continent.  Since I left the company before it was time to plan for 2005's, it was important to me that he be taken care of.  When I helped him plan his excursions, we always referred to them as 'our vacations'.  He'd always bring me back a little something.  While the souvenirs were small, they were always purchased with me in mind. 

I don't believe in an afterlife, but it is times like this when I wish I did.  I'd like to think my friend's out there making some other person's afterlife as fabulous as he made currentlife.

I miss you, Dead Guy.  I'm sorry I never sent you a card while you were in the hospital.  I still have that card and will keep until I forget where I put it, which, thank goodness, hasn't happened yet.

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Explore posts in the same categories: Friends, Letters, Personal thoughts, Postcards, Random Thoughts

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