I tend to write about stuff that happened in the past. Yeah, sometimes the past does look good in retrospect. And sometimes I just want to block it out. Probably why I miss out on some lessons. Like not knowing that December weddings are coming up so I should avoid family reunions if I do not want to find myself wearing baby blue and fuschia. Or magenta with angel gold. I know ???? (Here is proof.)
So I went out for drinks with a friend, and met her friend, who reminds me of an old friend that I do not talk to anymore. It’s not because we fell out or anything. We both just got caught up in our lives, I moved to a new town, uh, I mean the big city. He is a dad and worked his way up the hospitality industry. I actually made a career as a writer and editor.
The last few days have been extremely tough for me. I lost a friend. A writer, a brother, someone who constantly reminded me, since I first met him, that nothing is as important as being true to yourself, and being good to those you love. His death came as a massive shock for me. Boniface Gachugu was strong, even when the illness kicked him hard, and tossed him out to sea. He fought back, and swam back time after time, never losing the smile on his face. He was not afraid of the dark dark days, instead he lit them up with laughter and optimism.
I had a hard time with that. Pain, physical, emotional, mental has wracked my life. And there have been times when I have forgotten to smile, and to laugh, and to love, to live life like it should be lived, fully, no matter what. I push my friends away. I try to forget some, because it hurts less if I lose them, or they reject me.
Last week just brought it all up, onto the table, right in front of me, glaring hard at me. There is no excuse for shutting out friends who have been good and true to you, not even if it might hurt like nothing before when you lose them. That is what Boniface taught me. The character of a man, woman, is his/her integrity, to principles, to faith, to family (born or chosen), to the life that each one of us lives.
So I made a call. To an old friend, his boy will be 6 shortly. And I wrote email. To my cousin, she seems to be doing fine in San Jose. And then I listened to my mom and brother while we ate dinner together.
I suppose it can never be easy to learn some of life’s lessons. It takes courage, and I think I will try and gether my courage up. I will call you, because I do love you, because you matter to me, because your friendship means a lot to me.
© Juliet Maruru 2009 www.jmaruru.wordpress.com