Get Off My Lawn!

I think I'm turning in to the proverbial old man. You know, the one who lives in the corner house, which is dimly lit. The old man who lives alone because he outlasted the few friends and family he gave a damn about. And it scares me. Big time. I wasn't raised that way. I guess I should have paid attention to my father more. He was (and probably still is) the complete opposite of who I am now. He always had smile on his face and a kind word for anybody he came across, whether he knew them or not. My father died in July 0f 1989. I guess that's when the personality change started. I put up a good front for a while. Trying to make everyone laugh or just even crack a smile once and while. But slowly things changed. I just couldn't stop it. Even when I did things that made me happy like bowling or watching a game, in person or on TV, the happiness was fleeting. Maybe life is trying to teach me a lesson. I don't know. Things haven't been so good lately for me. I guess that's why I've been in a shitty mood so often. I was thinking about my friend Susie, who died about 5 months ago, today. That's why I'm writing now. I've known Susie and her family since I was 2. Her brother Steve is my best friend. We used to see each other all time. We had a close network of friends. Me, Sue, Jay (Susie's boyfriend and eventual hubby), Steve (her brother), Steve Grabowski, Mike Rioux and Randy Pierson. You'd think we were all realted because when you saw one of us, you saw all of us. But, eventually, we grew older and moved away. Most to the outlying suburbs, and one even out of state. But we did the best we could to stay in touch. Whether it was by phone or in person. But even that slowed to crawl. Before Susie died, we'd been trying for a good month or two to make plans to get together. I will always regret not being more vigilant in making those plans happen. You want to know why? Because the last time I saw Susie she couldn't see me. She was in a coma. It was a Saturday afternoon. Exactly one week before my dad would have been 62. The next morning I got a call from her brother Steve. I was getting ready to go bowling in my Sunday league. It was the call I wished I never got. She died only a few hours before. She was the glue that kept all of us together. Who knows what will happen to us now. God I miss my friend. Don't let be the grumpy old man, Susie.