I Called Him
I called K yesterday.
K called me back in the early evening. He sounded … well, broken, but also like he’s keeping it together as best he can. He was grateful I called. He patiently listened to my very inadequate words as I tried to express how sorry I was that J did this, how sad and how helpless I felt. I expressed my sympathy the best I could. He answered my questions about things very plainly; he was very honest about his feelings and what is happening to him right now. He is very grateful that friends are coming forward. He said that the old negative stuff is water under the bridge and that he was really grateful to hear from me.
K is very lonely. I’m happy that he has his parents nearby. He’s been able to go to their place to get away from his suddenly empty house. He hasn’t seen his children in over a week and he doesn’t know when he will be allowed to see them. His older daughter’s birthday is about a week away. He is understandably concerned that he might not get his daughters back.
I’m looking forward to J’s funeral tomorrow. I know that sounds weird. I’m looking forward to seeing him. K got some good advice from someone at the funeral home: Thursday will not be the hardest day. Friday will be harder because all the friends will go home and people will begin to resume their normal lives. K will not be able to resume his normal life on Friday, or Saturday, or any day soon. Perhaps normal life will never resume.
As far as his relationship to J goes, there is a rather large and recent complication—one that may have seriously exacerbated her mental/emotional problems, perhaps inspiring her fatal action. That part is his to tell, but he was very forthcoming about it to me. It appeared that he had nothing to hide.
K said, “I want to be friends.”
I said, “I think I would like that. But I am nervous about it.”
He said, “Take your time. I don’t have anyone telling me who I can and cannot be friends with anymore.” I thought that was interesting.
When K heard Lucas speaking and singing in the background, he broke down. He said he didn’t want to keep me away from my family. He sent his love to Ian, and he was crying while we said goodbye.
So, the thing I’m pondering is how close do I want to get to this level of pain? How bad for me or my family would it be for us to be involved with this man, this old friend, who may or may not have just recently lost everything that mattered to him. I’m not so good at shutting stuff like that out. But I also feel so much sympathy … perhaps too much. Someday I’m gonna build up those walls.
