The Last Time We Saw Each Other

My Mom and Dad were expecting me in 1949 at the same time his cousin Leah and her husband Ed were expecting a bundle of joy. Leah and Ed beat Dad and Mom in the baby birthing lottery by a month. Darlene was born August 15, I arrived on September 20, although Dad said I was due in August as well.

I never really knew Darlene even though we were in homeroom together in our Senior year. She ran with the "popular" crowd, while I was the bookworm who wasn't interested in clothes and makeup. She was blonde to my mousy brown and was quite beautiful. I, on the other hand was average in the looks department. I was the better student. There was no animosity nor jealously between us, we just weren't on the same page as people. Friendly, without a desire on either of our parts to get to know each other except superficially. We both thought it odd that we attended all the same schools and it wasn't until 12th grade that we wound up sharing a homeroom. Our last names were one letter different.

I haven't had a chance this week to read the local daily paper and took the opportunity to do so this afternoon. That was how I found out that Darlene died unexpectedly and her funeral was this afternoon. I didn't attend although there was time for me to do so. We hadn't kept in touch after graduation in 1967. I didn't feel that I needed to intrude on her family's grief. I haven't seen any of them in so long, I doubt they'd remember me.

When I called my step-mom to find out what she knew, she was in the dark as much as I was. However, she, without remembering my age kept saying how young she was and how scary it was that she died so young. By the time we were off the phone, I found myself with an urge to hug my boss. Had she not chosen January for our annual assessments and physicals, that obituary very much could have been mine.

Since it was a sudden and unexpected death I'm making an assumption of heart attack or stroke. If ever I needed an impetus to keep me on the doctors program, this was it. All of these changes I'm making aren't easy. I've spent so much time eating in an unhealthy manner that I constantly have to fight against the urge to slide backwards, or give it up entirely. There are days when I arrive home from work tired and have no desire to do all that preparation work in the kitchen. I do it grudgingly, but I do it. After today, I'm very glad I do it, and will continue to do it because I'm not yet ready for the alternative. I like breathing too much.