3.02.2009

received a call.


so last night i received a call telling me to call my frat brother's fiancee because there had been an accident, and "he may not be doing so good."

i called.

in fact, he wasn't doing well at all.
there had been an accident and his lung was punctured by his broken ribs,
and had it not been for the cops and ambulance showing up when they did
maybe his heart wouldn't have started pumping again.

-"what?! where are you?! where is he?!"
-"we're in washington hospital in DC"
-"i'm in DC. i'm coming up"

although i don't have as many friends as my facebook profile claims, i do have plenty.
i've been blessed to touch the lives of many, and have them touch mine in return, and they know that i love them dearly.
and many of them know that i will do whatever they need.
i've stood in ben's chili bowl preparing to fight an ex-redskin for a friend.
i've jumped over crowds of pumping fist to help a friend whoop someone's ass.
and my frat brothers already know what the deal it regarding how far i'll go.

i told his mother while i held her son's hand: he's probably the craziest, strongest guy i know. he'll make it out of this. this is much easier than pledging in the south. you know you have to be a special person when one person gets the message, and within seconds hundreds are calling trying to find room and board for a few days because they need to see what's going on with their friend.

and i wanted to write.
but nothing came.
until now.

i'm realizing i've been pushing to hard for the survival of some of my friendships.
so i'm allowing them to fade to black.

sometimes we need to realize when we've outgrown some.
and when some have outgrown us.

for the past few months i've been going to the park alone, finding myself the only big kid on the see-saw, hoping one of my friends would show up.

not the friends i drink with on thursdays at grand central.
or visit the poetry spots with on occasion.
or the friends who give me a key to their house and let me fry fish with the bedroom door wide open, stinking up their clothes...
those are the friends who always show up.

i wait for the friends who have directions to the park
but never seem to show.
the friends who celebrate my birthday without me watching lost episodes of BET shows, attempting to apologize.
i wait for them.

so my brother started shaking a little, and i grabbed his blanket and put them over him, and greeted his father as he walked in the room, and listened while his fiancee gave the updates.
and i wondered how many people he waited for that didn't show up as soon as they knew.

i won't wait for you to show up.
i know who's coming when this happens to me.
because i will pick my friends like i have always picked my fruit.

and in 7 hours and 28 minutes i will be back in my brother's room, holding his hand, telling him that everybody that needs to be there is there, or has been, or will be.

and i pray that he squeezes my hand back and attempt to say the same thing.

1 comment:

SoFaReal said...

I like how you identified the precise time it takes you to live your routine in life before you come back to him...
There's always those friends you know are there, in the back of your head...sometimes only a dull memory....but the beauty in those memories is what is kept in you....and so without saying, without acknowledging, that bond is forever long. Like you realized, the sad part is that we only wake to that memory, usually because it has been comprised, ie. your friend's incident. Peace for you, your friend, and all the friends who have lost friends and lost loves still left incomplete.