What is the name of the song that goes something like this, "have you seen her, I see her face everywhere I go, tell me, have you seen her?" And, then it goes on, "why oh why did she have to go?"
The words to that song remind me so much of a dear friend that I once knew. But, she is gone, gone forever. I regret so many things. I guess life is like that. Full of regrets. Things that one cannot change or bring back.
I have so many good memories of her. I wish that I could remember everything but the hands of time have snarled its way through my mind and, too, some memories have simply been over written by other memories.
I do remember the first time that we met. I was moving into the first floor of an apartment building. I had my VW Beetle crammed full of boxes and was just lugging another up the steps when a car careened into the graveled parking lot. Dust flew. She got out of the car, a Pinto, and flipped her sunglasses onto the top of her head. For those of you to young to remember, a Pinto was a small car. I immediately noticed that gorgeous mane of blonde hair. She glanced towards me, flipped her hair to one side, and gave me what I would soon learn, was her signature grin. It was kind of a quirk grin that made me think she was sizing me up. My first thought was, "who the heck is this goddess?" I opened the door to my apartment and continued to unload all of the boxes that a VW could hold.
What can I say? This beautiful girl became one of my very best friends. I so admired her. She had a voluptuous body. I may have weighed ninety-eight pounds and their was nothing special about me, but this girl had flawless skin and her grin was ...awesome. Everything about her was perfect. I had freckles and strived to keep them covered with make-up. I guess my freckles came from all of those years in the cotton fields. Anyway, this girl and I went on trips together, Sunday afternoon drives. and shared all of our little secrets. Oh, my. And, we did have our share of secrets.
She was a bit more country than me, I will have to admit; however, we were both farm girls. Lots of Sundays she would go with me to my Memma's for Sunday dinner. We were a pair. Once, someone told me that drinking wine would make you gain weight so, I drove to South Pittsburg and bought a bottle of..I am guessing Boone's Farm. I began to have a glass every night. Of course, after work, she would pop into my apartment to catch up. After several nights of watching me "drink my one glass" of wine, she decided that I was an alcoholic and made me give it up. Didn't like it anyway and started getting breakfast at Burger Chef/King.
I knew her hurts, her pains, and just everything. She had the cutest younger brother and a beautiful mother that would often visit. I knew when she was upset because she had that funny little grin and a quirky little look. And, for some reason, when she was upset, she would always give a nervous little laugh.
Vacations, Sunday afternoon drives, fits of crying over who knows what came to an end. I moved. And, why, I do not know, but we lost touch. And, then I moved away to another State. And, that was that. But, I still thought of her and my Mom would tell me about seeing her, talking to her, etc.
Then, years later,I was visiting relatives in Alabama. We were sitting around drinking coffee and chit chatting. Someone had turned the TV on. I think it was just to have more noise. And, then we heard something about breaking news and a plane crash. I watched the news saddened by the tragedy. I remember thinking about work and hoping that no one from work was on the flight. As, by this time, we had gathered around the TV and a plane from NYC to Paris had crashed in the ocean. It was horrible. I just couldn't believe it. The phone rang and it was my cousin calling to tell me that my friend that I had known all of those years ago, was on the flight as was her young son.
Later, I recall that her sister-in-law called to tell me about a planned memorial service. I did not attend the service. I don't know why. I just did not. And, today, I regret it.
This year will be sixteen years since that event. I think of her often and especially this past week or two. I feel her presence and I sometimes think she is trying to tell me something.
And, there are times, that I will be somewhere, and I will catch a glimpse of a beautiful blond with long, blond hair and I swear...I saw her. I think I saw her. I turned to follow and she was gone.
Sixteen years ago this year she got on that plane with her son.
And, I say to myself, have you seen her? Tell me, have you seen her? Why of why did she have to go?
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