We are all guilty of it. It happens too often. Sometimes it's something we regret. I thought I would share two examples with the peanut gallery, and maybe you could benefit before it's too late.
In the first example, I put off something that I really wish I hadn't.
Years ago, working patrol... I was a Field Training Officer, Firearms Instructor, and an Officer Safety and Street Survival Instructor in the Academy. We would see students come and go all the time and now and then one would stand out. One of the students really caught my attention and after completion of the academy, I chose him as one of my recruits for Field Training where I learned a lot more about him. He was NOT one of the young hard chargers, but about my age, had come to VA from New York with his wife and kids and we became good friends, like brothers. We worked patrol together and I recommended him for a Firearms Instructor slot and later to fill the training coordinator slot when that officer left. A good guy. Close, we were very close. When he took that coordinator slot, he moved to Days. I stayed on Midnights unless I was teaching. I didn't like politics, and there was a great LACK of politics on midnight shift. Politicians were sleeping.
While on Days, my "Brother" stepped into something he should not have. Nothing illegal, just drama. Someone told HIM that I had told someone about it, however I never knew anything about the situation, working midnights. It caused a rift in our relationship and things were said that widened the gap. Trust is earned and once lost, is hard to re-establish. He later learned who had ratted him out, but he came from a culture that made it hard for him to apologize or admit he was wrong. (The person who told him I had put his name in the pot had been written up in the academy and never forgave me, even though they were wrong.)
I meant to call him. I even got out my book and looked up his number a couple times and then got distracted by life. A couple years ago, one of my Former Officers called me and told me that he had Passed.
He was fairly young, just 60. But he liked to party, and it affected his health. Again, a culture thing. I called and spoke with his wife and she told me that he knew he had been given bad information and started to call ME two dozen times. "It was that Macho attitude of his, he couldn't say I was wrong... He didn't speak to that Woman anymore, the one who lied... but couldn't bring himself to call. If ONE of you could have just picked up the phone." She gently hung up the phone...I'll never forget that last line. We were like brothers and that lie created a rift that we never healed. A phone call. One phone call.
In the second example, it wasn't me... but a really old friend. When I say really old, I mean Childhood Friend. (Pre-teen)
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R to L : Damon: He was my girlfriend's brother. There's a story there, but that's for another time. Did I mention my first girlfriend was Debbie Reynolds? Michael: My best friend, ever. That's me: Studly as ever. My little sister, she had a pumpkin head until she was about ten.
You know those nights when you just can't sleep and you are sitting at the computer and you have checked all the forums, looked at all the amazon things you wanted to look up, and watched the various youtube videos and run out of ideas, but still can't sleep. Then you think, "I wonder if I can find the house I lived in back in the day?" Sure enough, you look on Google Maps, and there is the intersection you remember... Florida and Nebraska Ave in Tampa... so ... go this way... and Dixon and Hiawatha... Yup.. there it is...
As you scan across the properties, the plat info comes up and you see the best friend's name from the late 60s pop up.
What? You guys were inseparable. There were others in the group, but he lived next door and you were always together. He must have bought his mother's house. Yup, that's his name and that's definitely the house.
I wrote a letter to my friend from the late 60s, included some pictures of all of the gang, and told him I know it's weird, but those years were the best of MY life. I included my card with my address and email address in case he wanted to catch up. We were friends from forth grade until tenth. I mailed the letter and didn't expect an answer.. I expected him to open the letter and go, "Weirdo," then toss it.
About six months later, I got an email... from his little sister. She and my little sister had been best friends too.
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Back Row: Michael and I
Front: Mary Alice and Kim
She wanted to let me know she had been cleaning out her brother's desk and had found my letter and all the pictures under a paperweight, with the beginning of a reply. He had called her excited when he received the letter and told her he was going to answer and would let her know what I had to say. He was always busy with work, and she guessed he had gotten tied up with some project. He died from Cardiac Arrest on the job. Never finished the letter or got it mailed, but he meant to. I appreciated the call. I always joked with my wife when "Stand By Me" came out that Stephen King had followed me around during those years I lived in Tampa with my friends there. That line at the end, "I never had friends like that again." Resonated.
