requiem for an angel

written about a friend. he passed away a little while after i wrote this.

Requiem for an Angel

 

I met Buddy in college, but I don’t remember just where or when. All I remember is that suddenly he was there and we were the best of friends. He was a missionary’s kid, far from his home in Italy. I was an intellectually rebellious youth and aspiring hippy. He was many things I was not: outgoing, personable, magnetic. I seemed to repel rather than attract, but I see in retrospect I rather cultivated that outsider, ‘stranger in a strange land’ image.

 

Re-reading what I’ve written so far, I see this is going in the wrong direction. Let me start over….

 

Let’s talk about angels. Not the cloud-sitting, harp-strumming variety, but the kind that look like you and me. The kind that show up now and then in the Bible chatting, rescuing, warning, even wrestling with various patriarchs, prophets and believers. These angels show up out of the blue at pivotal times, do what they are meant to do, then leave. And after they’ve been there things are never the same. Lives are changed. sometimes even the world has changed.

 

There have been several people in my life that I consider to be angels. Not in the sense of being other worldly or even spiritual. They are just people who came into my life at critical times and not only helped me through those periods, but forever changed me. I would not be who I am today without having had them in my life. Some stayed only a year or two; some stayed decades; some, thank god, are still with me.

 

Buddy was one of the angels that stayed only briefly, but I still carry him with me all the time. He was best man at my wedding. He is a catalyst in my becoming whatever it is I’ve become today. Were it not for Buddy I would have spent the better part of my college career as I had my high school years, sequestered away with my books, my writing, and my guitar. What buddy showed me more than anything else is that there’s a world out there. A world full of music and art and interesting people. Together we went exploring. We explored places, ideas, art, movies, the city. And we met people! This was new to me. My only contacts were generally people who were thrust upon me in one way or another. Initiating contact and conversation was a whole new experience. He challenged me in other ways too. We scavenged art supplies, scraps of wood to attempt woodcuts, paper mache to attempt sculpting or modeling. We would try and fail, try and succeed, and there was always another challenge, always something new to try. A new thought to consider. New things to explore.

 

So why am I writing all this? It’s been 25 or 30 years since I last saw Buddy. We took separate paths. I moved away and in spite of a few attempts to reunite, the bond was severed. We both moved on. But what brought all this to the center of my thoughts was a message from another long-lost angel of mine. He, Buddy, and I had all been close at one time. He and Buddy had remained in contact with each other while I had lost track of both of them. The message he sent was a sad one. Buddy was extremely ill. Cancer. And the prognosis was not good. So now I face losing a friend I’d already lost in part. Only this time the door would close forever. Oh, I’m not writing Buddy off yet. Miracles do happen. But the prospect of losing him hurts really bad and I’m not too sure why.

Perhaps this is what’s bothering me. The angels from that part of my life, like me, were coming out of extremely fundamentalist Christian backgrounds. We shared a search for our own answers, our own boundaries, our own beliefs. We all flailed around a bit before settling in on a path. Buddy’s and my other angel’s paths led them back to the church. My path led me away from it. And I wonder why. I don’t so much wonder who is right or wrong as I wonder how it is that people end up where they do.

 

One idea I’ve been toying with is this: Some people love answers; some people love questions. People who love answers gravitate toward the church. People who love questions do not. Maybe ‘love’ is not the right word. It’s not that I love questions. It’s more that I find questions to be more honest than answers. I think perhaps I feel abandoned by the ones who once questioned with me. They ran back to the safety of answers, leaving me to flounder alone. Maybe that’s where the hurt is coming from. I won’t say that their beliefs are intellectually dishonest. I don’t believe that for a moment. It is just a different path that I no longer understand.

 

So the world may lose Buddy. That’s very sad. I lost him long ago. I will not grieve for him. I still believe, as he does, that he will go to a much better place. I feel bad for those who he leaves behind. I know how that feels. And I don’t say that grudgingly. Angels do what they are meant to do and move on. We who are touched by them are blessed. I am grateful.

　

Reviews

[Celeste21]

This made me very teary..and the last part about questions and answers was so honest.

[Saturn's Lover]

"I am grateful." I know this feeling too well. Wonderful, touching write. So sad. Thanks for sharing.