I had a phone call a couple of days ago that a dear friend of mine had passed away suddenly. It wasn’t a complete shock to me for I knew she had had some health problems. Nonetheless, I was sorry to hear that she was gone.
Joline and I became friends nearly 50 years ago. We had supported one another as friends do when it was necessary, and we had shared many laughs and good times together. I don’t think she had a nasty bone in her body. She might have been unhappy with one situation or another, but I’d never seen her clench her teeth or ball up her fist in anger.
Over the past several years we chatted on the phone, and one day, about, oh 10 years ago, she started to tell me about this wonderful book she was reading. Yeah, yeah. I wasn’t paying much attention that day. The next time we talked, she again went on and on about this same book. (My Heavens! How long was this story? Over a thousand pages, as it turned out. And that was just the first of some half dozen books that turned out to be one verrry long story). She kept telling me about this series (as it turned out to be) over several more phone calls, and then one day my doorbell rang, and there she was, book in hand. “Here! Read!” And so I did. In fact I ended up up buying the series up to that point -- about 4 long books, and the two more that have come out since. Today I learned thad book seven is due out later this month, but Joline won’t get to read this one. Or maybe she will.
She was a true friend, and I shall miss her.
But she would insist I keep up the humor:
An Irish priest is driving down to New York and gets stopped for speeding in Connecticut. The state trooper smells alcohol on the priest's breath and then sees an empty wine bottle on the floor of the car. He says, "Sir, have you been drinking?" "Just water," says the priest. The trooper says, "Then why do I smell wine?" The priest looks at the bottle and says, "Good Lord! He's done it again!"