There may not always be a next time

College. Four years of freedom without adult responsibilities. Four years of making lifetime friends. Four years of being 800 miles away from your parents. EIGHT HUNDRED MILES! Four years that most of us remember fondly and consider some of the best times of our lives.

I met my friend Brad during my freshman year at the University of Oklahoma. We both lived on the eleventh floor of the Walker Tower dormitory. He was at one end of the floor, I was on the other. I’m pretty our first meeting was in a group to do something that was not legal at that time. Shhh…don’t tell anyone. The last time I saw him on campus was four years later when he and his roommate streaked our class graduation ceremony. Again…don’t tell anyone. What the Hell, the statute of limitations has long passed on both offenses.

After college, we went our separate ways. Brad went back to Memphis, I came home to Chicago. We saw each other a few times over the years. The last time was at a wedding which seems like it happened yesterday, but in reality, was close to forty years ago.

In 2019, I took a weekend trip to Memphis. My niece was playing softball at a small college there. It was an opportunity to watch her play, catch up with my brother and his wife, and do some sightseeing. I thought about calling my old friend but the weekend was jammed packed with activities. Plus, since my niece was only a Sophomore, I’d have another opportunity to come back to Memphis. I would definitely call him next time.

It was only after I returned home that I learned the restaurant where we ate on Saturday was only two blocks from the office where he worked. It would have been easy to stop by. Damn. Again, next time.

The next time never came. Less than a year after our trip to Memphis, the Covid pandemic hit. It was hard enough to leave your house, much less jump on a plane to go watch college softball, in Tennessee.

Then last Sunday, I heard the news that my friend had died in a tragic accident at his home. The circumstances surrounding this have left me more than a little shaken. For two days, I haven’t been able to think about much else. And sleep, yeah right!

But, more than anything else I’ve been thinking about that trip to Memphis and how I missed an opportunity to catch up with my friend. I’ve been thinking about how I thought it was more important to go to Graceland. How I thought it was more important to cross the Mississippi River to go to Arkansas so I could cross it off my going to all fifty states bucket list. Damn! Damn! DAMN!

But, one thing the events of the last few days have done is reinforce to me something I’ve known for a long time, don’t put off doing the things that are important to you because you may not get the chance to do them again. Yeah, I know how cliche that sounds, but that doesn’t make it less true. There really may not be a next time!