The Passing of Time

THE WEDDING GUESTS

                                                By John Leon

            Normally I write about sports and their effect on the culture of our area, but after learning of my cousin’s passing last week, it got me to thinking about mortality. Yes, I know what you’re thinking and that’s whether there is a punch line or something in here.

            Nothing could be farther from the truth.

            What actually spurred my thoughts after Sam’s death was my wedding almost 28 years ago and how many of the 150 + guests are either no longer with us, or we’ve lost touch of. Much like the yearbook that you break out on occasion, and realize that many of your classmates have passed. It is a sobering thought to say the least.

            Witnesses one and all watched me, sweaty palms and shaking, take my vows to my bride. No way out and no where to run. The reception was a joyous one, to say the least, with the newly wedded couple the last ones to depart the hall.

            Sam was 51 years old with a malformation of the veins in his brain and after suffering the hemorrhage which would turn out to be fatal, he passed but not before invoking fond memories of our growth as friends and men. He was at my wedding, refusing to be IN the wedding for fear of jinxing it. A superstitious man if there ever was one, he actually gave his approval for me to get married. Gee, thanks Sam.

It was MANDATORY that I be in his wedding. No matter that I was in the midst of my baseball/softball season. That went over with my teammates like a lead balloon. I missed the rehearsal and dinner, but was at the weeding of his first wife and all was good.

Many others from relatives to close friends have passed through and have gone. Others have drifted away, living their own lives with just a memory of the happy occasion, sometimes catching up after 10 minuets or so. Other times we think that there will always be time to get together and catch up on each others lives. We’re not getting older, there will ALWAYS be time.

            Thinking back gives one pause to realize that we are indeed human and although many of us think of ourselves as bullet proof, we are not. Things happen for a reason, and even though my cousin and I had not spoken for many years, it does not diminish the good times that we had. Going to his funeral will be a sad occasion for many reasons.

            As with many others, he died way too young. He went quickly and that was his wish, as he said to me many years ago.

            “I don’t want to be rusting away letting my family have to watch me go,” he said.

            He was larger than life, standing 6’5” and tipping the scales at 230 or so in his hey day. Mechanically inclined, he could fix anything it seemed and always knew the proper way to get things done. Always had a devilish grin as I recall, and you just never knew what was coming out of his mouth next. You couldn’t play any kind of puzzle or word games, because he would kick your ass many times over, and this was from a man that never finished high school and had to get his GED.

            Getting back to the wedding, it seems like many of the guests are now pleasant memories from the pictures that day. We have drifted apart, but not deliberately. Life takes its toll on friendships and it seems like when we were all together, it was another lifetime ago. Indeed, the standard line from my times as an athlete is “That was another lifetime ago,” that we played as a team and enjoyed the camaraderie.

            Always with a hug and handshake, do we greet each other when we meet again, but the closeness that we felt at that time has waned. Everyone tries to keep in touch through the years but not the way we once did, and that again, is no fault of anyone.

            This is my reality check and it seems that as we grow older, the checks seem to be more and more frequent. It used to be the funerals of our parents and their friends we were going to, and now it’s our friends and relatives.

            Nobody said growing up was going to be fun or easy and his is the part that’s never easy.

            But I do admit that it would be fun to get together on a more regular basis, instead of reunions once a year or so. I guess I’m starting to realize my own mortality, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.

            I will have a reunion with my cuz at some point and then we will pick up where we drifted apart, like we never lost touch.

            Save me a seat kid, and let me know what I need to bring.