Monday, March 28, 2011

A Year Ago

A year ago, I borrowed a screwdriver from my friend Tim to fix the bureau I was refinishing, my son's old bureau. A year ago I was picking dusty oranges from Tim's tree. A year ago, I borrowed his van to pick up an armchair at the second hand shop down the street. A year ago I was having a conversation with Tim in his driveway about a drama student, a student who had died suddenly his sophomore year in college. A year ago, Tim was the first person to see the house I had just rented, a few blocks from his own house. A year ago, I sat in the drama office, reading the high school newspaper and pretending to be a fly on the wall while he had a serious conversation with one of his students. A year ago, when I returned the screw driver, Tim had just returned from taking his Drama students to a debate, which amazingly they had won. He was so proud of his very smart drama students, standing on the sidewalk, talking to Rick, his neighbor, about their victory.

I taped the screwdriver to Tim's shirt with packaging tape. And I walked away, not realizing that would be one of the last times I would see my friend. A year ago.

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