For the Last Time

It seems to me that there should be something special about the last time. By special I don't mean a party or celebration, parade, or a gala event with keynote speakers. Those things would only detract from and even soil what should be the specialness of the last time. The last time should be marked by a final glance and then thanked and sent on it's way with a quiet, dignified poignancy. And maybe that's what we would do if we knew it was the last time, but mostly we don't. And that's sad. Something that has existed for maybe decades or perhaps only momentarily has disappeared unacknowledged and forgotten.

Do you remember your best friend? Do you remember the last time you saw him or her? Do you remember how you parted? It was probably one of those "see ya" or "call me" partings, fully expecting to be with them again. But sometimes life takes funny turns, and things get in the way and our circumstances change and before you know it you've lost track of your best friend. If you had known that that was the last time you would see him or her would you have acted differently?

For many years I deer hunted in a particular section of woods near the Peshtigo River in Wisconsin.  I knew that stretch of forest like the back of my hand. I had a couple of favorite oak trees I would sit against that overlooked well used deer trails. And through the trees I could see glimpses of the river. It was so peaceful and beautiful, especially toward sunset. But like I said, things change and a few years had slipped away without my being in that woods. One fall afternoon I drove 'up north' dressed in camo hunting clothing with my bow hunting gear looking forward to again sitting against one of my favorite trees if I could find them, and maybe getting some venison for the freezer. When I arrived there was no woods for me to walk into. Instead there were paved roads and yuppie houses with flower gardens and mailboxes. It took awhile for my brain to process what I was seeing. I remember my mind refusing to believe what was in front of me. I kept repeating, "this can't be." 

I drove away from there as quickly as I could. During the days I hunted there I never thought to take pictures of those trees I sat against, or the river through the trees. I've tried to remember the last time I hunted there but can't do it. I wonder, if I had known that last day I hunted there that I would never be back what I would have thought or done. Maybe carved my initials in a tree, or took a limb to carve something out of it as a souvenir. I don't know, but I would have done something to mark that last time. Now it's lost. 

Shortly after high school graduation my best friend moved with his family to a different city. There were still frequent phone calls and regular visits but after time the visits became less frequent, instead becoming intentions and the phone calls followed the same path. It wasn't until my 50th high school reunion that I learned that he had taken his own life at age 26. I don't remember anything about the last time I saw or spoke with him. I still regret not having made an effort to locate him.

When Maribel and me lived in Wisconsin there was a lake within ten minutes of our house. We both like to eat fish, especially fresh caught fish and we could always count on that lake to produce several meals for us. Usually it was Maribel who suggested that we hook up the boat and get some fish. Perch, bluegill and crappie were our favorite eating fish. Casting 1/16 oz Beetle Spins with ultra-light gear would fill our fish bag quickly. That lake is the one thing we miss most living here in Georgia. We often talk about it, but never once did we think to take a camera in the boat, and neither of us can remember the last time we fished there. We took photos of some of our catches after returning home but never on the lake.

When we learned that I needed open heart surgery we told most of our friends and family members, not making a big deal out of it. There is one friend I have living in Miami who, for reasons I don't need to get into, I have a stronger bond with than others. As the day of my surgery approached he sent an email, encouraging me and talking about our next get-together when I was healed. I wrote back, saying that I had a great cardiologist, surgeon and hospital so was confident everything would turn out okay. Then on an impulse I added that if anything went wrong I wanted him to know that I really enjoyed our friendship over the years and was glad that our paths had crossed. Within minutes he responded with, "Tom, just like everything else you've faced, YOU GOT THIS! I felt good. If this were to be the last time we communicated, I had marked it as special and had closure. 

I think that this post is actually an extension of my last post, having to do with an aspect of living life. It's probably not possible for anyone to think that it may be the last time they are seeing someone or something, or doing something for the last time or being someplace for the last time. But we do know those people places and things we enjoy most at the moment and maybe if we kept in mind that this may be the last time, years later it would make our memories even more enjoyable and complete.