I found out this past week a childhood friend passed away five years ago...
Five years.
And I only found out now.
Cliff and I grew up together. We went through elementary, jr. high, and high school. He was born nine days after me. We did scouts, sports, church (which was basically the same thing...), and if I'm not mistaken, even Dungeons and Dragons. There was a time when I talked about my best friends, Cliff was included in that conversation.
It's strange how people who meant so much to you at one point in your life can basically fade into memory.
Since graduation four decades ago (gads, that's a long time...), I've often wondered what happened to Cliff. After being released from being legally forced to spend time in the same educational building, we all went our separate ways. Most stayed close, but according to his obituary, Cliff moved east, one state over. He worked, had children, who in turn, had children making Cliff not only a father, but grandfather. There are no details as to his passing, other than the date.
As Cliff and I grew up, we made different decisions. I ended up choosing new friends who more aligned with the way I wanted to live my life, but Cliff was never "not my friend," at least, that's how I felt. Whenever we had a high school class together, we'd sit by each other and talk. Cliff had a good heart. He never made me feel bad for not hanging out with him as we grew older.
Even though I haven't spoken to him for over forty years, the news hit hard. I feel for his children, grandchildren, those who knew him as a child, like me, and those who knew him in all those years in between. I'm thankful I could always call Cliff my friend. Since hearing the news, memories of those times years ago have returned. I'm thankful to have known Cliff. I'm thankful for those memories.
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