A FRIEND

Suzie has been here for the past week. My kids love it when she comes up from Michigan – she gets me out of the house, they say, and they’re right. This afternoon we attended the area’s annual German summer party. It’s held on a beautiful site deep in the bush, at a club they built with the help of Suzie’s father many years ago.

We were enjoying the scenery, the food, the chatting, and the live music. The one-man band fellow was well set up, and he had a nice voice. He had been playing for an hour or so when he knocked me for a loop. I heard the opening bars of the tune and I froze. It was Kris Kristofferson’s ‘Sunday Morning Coming Down’. That was Bird’s favorite song; the one he chose for his funeral, and I hadn’t heard it since. I didn’t want to hear it now. Everything inside of me just kind of shut down.

I treat grief as a private thing. I know that holding it in is not good, but damnit, I was surrounded by people who were partying and this was not the place for tears. They came anyway.

I didn’t realize that I was holding my breath until I felt her take my hand. She had been on the other end of the table, but now Suzie was beside me, holding tight. She remembered the tune too, and knew what I was feeling.

“Bird must have wanted to hear his song,” she said in my ear. “Let’s listen to it with him.”

I guess I nodded – I know I hung onto her until it was over. If anyone else noticed, they pretended not to. My mood had changed. A short time later those riding with me piled into my truck for their lifts home, Suzie included.

The phone rang an hour after I got to my house.

“You okay??” she asked.

“I will be,” I answered.

“I know,” she said.

And she does.

I realized again what a precious friend she is, and I SMILED.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.