Funny (should my musings strike you as humorous) shall return soon

I go am e-mail out of the blue a few weeks backs from a woman named Sue.  It looked like spam, but the subject line was "Beth O'Neil."

I opened it up and found that it was from Beth's sister Sue, and included these words.

Russell -

I don't know if you remember me or not.  I am Beth O'Neil's Sister.  We met many many years ago in South Padre Island.  I just thought I'd let you know that Beth has passed away.   She passed on March 15.  She had many many surgeries and biopsies of a mysterious disease and fought real hard for a good year.  She was in good spirits until the very end and was with family and good friends when she passed peacefully.

I just thought I'd let you know, she spoke highly of you.

Thanks,
Sue

I remembered Sue and I certainly remembered Beth.  We did meet at Charlie's Backyard at South Padre Island somewhere around 1986 (give or take a year).  I was 22-23. she was 24-25 at the time.  I met her and her friends and her sister Sue.  I believed I asked her to dance.  She smiled and said yes, and we hit it off the entire trip.  These ladies had scored a large two-bedroom condo for the four of them.  We on the other hand, were staying thirteen drunk guys to a Holiday Inn room.  My sleeping space was third to last person to be stepped on before one got to the bathroom.  After the first night getting stepped on by drunks, Beth and her friends invited me to stay with them.  At that point in my life, I saw myself as a gentlemen, so nothing untoward happened - it was just the two of us getting to know each other.  I do remember getting the "hard-sell" from 12 other guys, who were looking for my help to "hook up" with one of the other three available women. 

The girls all had come down to Padre from Minnesota, and all had better tans then we did (they got ready). We, on the other hand, had made sure we emptied 1/2 of the 3 liter sprite bottle so it could be filled with vodka on the trip down.  Different priorities.

Beth and I spent the rest of our time together there, and it really felt like a loss when we parted.  We kept in touch and decided to visit each other.  I remember a couple of trips to Minnesota, a trip she took to Texas, and a time we met in Colorado (when my mom lived there).  There may have been other trips, but these I remember (plus one to San Antonio).

I remember that she wore the perfume "Red" and that she and her friends would make "blender drinks" which consisted of some frozen juice and a variety of alcohols.  I remember going to the Mall of America.

She said things like "book" when she meant "run" and lotsa of "doncha know's" and I found myself using more "ya'll's" that I ever had before.

I remember to my shame that she was assaulted when she livid alone in Little Canada, Minnesota and that I did not immediately fly up to comfort her.  And again when we visited Colorado to stay with my mom.  Mom and Tom lived on the grounds of a live-in prep school, and no one locked doors.  I didn't think about it or catch her anxiety sleeping in a house with unlocked doors so soon after her assault.

I also remember happy times laughing and having fun, sometimes in Austin, sometimes in Minnesota.  She took me to cool zoos and Lake Superior (and the museum of the Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald).  We traveled into Wisconsin and had cheese.  I took her to the Alamo and the River Walk.

We cared about each other but each saw our future in our home states.  After trying to come to a decision that could work and failing, we finally decided the long-distance relationship was not working.

We were both young, but this is likely the closest I came to "finding that someone" in that part of my life.   Both of us were too scared, or unsure, or young, or perhaps stupid, to make the sacrifice, so we parted.

Beth and I remained in touch over the years, and I eventually did find that right person for me, married her, and have two amazing twin daughters and a fantastic life together.  Beth and I exchanged holiday cards and e-mails that slowed and then stopped a few years back.

Sue tells me that Beth never married but doted on her nieces.

We hadn't been in touch, and I think the thing that has affected me the most is that that's one of those "I really should call and catch up with her" that can never ever happen again.

I can't shake sense of powerful sadness - that I lost touch, that I learned too late, that someone who was very special to me in a particular time of my life is gone.

I have letters somewhere in a box from her.  I keep going back and forth on whether to find them and look at them.  Will it make me sadder, bringing up specific memories?  On the other hand, if this situation doesn't call for looking through old papers and letters, I don't know what does.

Goodbye Beth.  I will  miss you.