I learned, after the fact, the a childhood friend of mine died recently. Although I had not seen him for decades, my memories of our friendship are still vivid and I feel a (strange?) connection to him. I wrote this letter to his mother, a widow.
Monday, March 19, 2007
Dear Mrs. K,
Please forgive me for writing you rather than personally expressing my condolences on the occasion of your son Rick’s death. It has been many years since I have seen any of the K’s and I regret that I did not see Rick in any of these past thirty some years.
But I have reflected on my memories of Rick as a childhood friend and look upon these memories with great satisfaction. If my memory serves me well, I met Rick at Annunciation School, perhaps on the long bus ride to and from Akron. I know that we developed a friendship rather quickly and we spent a fair amount of time outside of school together. Rick was the first kid that I knew who spoke a language other than English. At first I thought he was telling me a tall tale. I remember asking him, “how do you say ‘My name is Ricky K and Richard is my friend?’ ” He responded, “Mein Name ist Ricky K, und Richard ist mein Freund.” Well, for a kid like me who knew nothing of the German language, this sounded suspiciously like another kid just pretending to speak German! Meeting you and Mr. K finally validated Rick’s claim in my mind.
I remember our chess games, both at your home and mine. I preferred to play at Rick’s home since it always seemed much more quiet and peaceful than my own rather hectic (but loving) home. But I must now confess there was another reason for preferring your house. I remember that you always seemed to have wonderful cakes and baked goods. If memory serves me, Sunday was the best time for these tasty treats. I thank you for your hospitality. You were always very kind to me.
And I remember going to some of Rick’s soccer games and on at least several occasions being a K family guest at the German American Club. Soccer seemed like such a “typical European thing” at that time in my life. For some odd reason, the high socks that Rick wore remain clearly with my memory. I would never have guessed then that all of my five sons would play soccer in grade school!
I cannot think of even one unhappy memory of my times with Rick and the K family. Not one. I think that this speaks to the kind of friend that Rick was to me and the generosity of the K family.
I know that his death is painful to you and his wife and children. I hope that your pain will be relieved with the passing of time and with pleasant memories of his life. I will remember him (and you all) in my daily prayers.
In paradisum
In paradisum deducant te angeli:
in tuo adventu suscipiant te martyres,
et perducant te in civitatem sanctam Jerusalem.
May the Angels conduct you to Paradise: And at your coming may the Martyrs receive you. May they lead you to the holy City of Jerusalem.
Chorus angelorum te suscipiat, et cum Lazaro quondam paupere aeternam habeas requiem.
May a choir of Angels receive you. And may you, with Larzarus – once a poor man – Possess eternal peace.
This is one of my favorite prayers for the dead. I pray that the martyrs, all the saints, Mr. K and all Rick’s family and friends were there to welcome him home. I hope that he may be there to greet me when I too leave this life for the next (although he may have some problem recognizing me after all these years!)
May God bless you, Rick’s wife and sons and console your loss.
Sincerely,