Ken Beaton: The last time

Unless you have psychic powers, you and I will never know when our last time for doing anything is really our last time. Usually, something is the last time only when it appears in the past tense.

Think about it.

Wouldn’t it be special if each of us received a phone call, text message, email, billboard or premonition that this is the last time you’ll see a special someone vertical.

Consider how your conversation would be if today was the last time you’d see one or both of your parents.

Would you ask him/her a million questions?

What were your parents like, when you were a teen? Was your sister/brother always weird, a jerk or substitute any negative term for nonstop talking? Did you know my great-grandparents? What did your family do for fun before electronic screens on handheld devices?

How would you behave if you knew this was going to be the last time, you’d see your best friend? Would you hug him/her for minutes instead of the usual milli-second hug? Would you give your opposite gender friend a meaningful kiss that would make their toenails curl? Would you tell your friend how special he/she is to you?

Nine years ago, Al Casey had been my best friend for more than 61 years. He had serious pulmonary issues because he didn’t give up smoking soon enough. In October 2012, I flew to Massachusetts to celebrate my daughter’s 50th birthday and gather with high school classmates. Al’s health had gone downhill since I visited five months earlier. After listening to Nora Ephron discussing having your last meal, I decided to order and eat what I would want for my last meal.

I ordered a 1½-pound baked lobster, drawn butter, baked potato with sour cream and chives, fresh peas and a slice of blueberry pie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. In early December Al’s pulmonary issues were going downhill. The soonest flight reservations I could make were to fly to Massachusetts on Jan. 4, 2013. I planned to visit Al in the hospital on Saturday, Jan. 5, 2013, to have one last drink together and say “goodbye” to Al.

As it happened, on Sunday, Dec. 30, 2012, I answered our phone at 7:30 a.m.

“Hi Ken, it’s Sue Casey. Al died this morning at 1:30 a.m.”

As soon as my wife heard me say in a loud voice, “NO!” She knew Al had passed away.

Sue told me, “I want to have Al’s wake, church service and celebration of life on Saturday, Jan. 5, 2013. Will do his eulogy?”

I told Sue, “Yes!”

Immediately I began writing and rewriting Al’s eulogy. How do you squeeze 61 years into several pages of a eulogy?

Al and I were the kings of playing pranks, nobody in our high school, neighborhood or the citizens of Boston were safe from our pranks. We won a race in Al’s 54 VW on Storrow Drive along the Charles River by Al driving through a beautiful bed of flowers. The race was to morning class at Wentworth Institute of Technology on Huntington Avenue. I can recall several epic lunchroom food fights with the window shades drenched with milk and a semi-hardboiled egg on the wall with yolk drooling down the wall. My closing to Al’s eulogy was, “To Friday Nights I can’t remember, with my best buddy I’ll never forget!”

Why is it that we are afraid to share what our friend/relative means to us? Yes, I’m as guilty as you are guilty of not telling a close friend, “You mean the world to me!” FEAR! We fear being rejected or ridiculed. Why do you and I always think the worst will happen?

Because the new year, is here, this could be your new year’s resolution. Step out of your comfort zone to tell your best friend one of the following.

“I want to thank you for being my friend through thick and thin. Thanks for being the only person who believed in me. You were the person who stood by my side through thick and thin! Your friendship means the world to me.”

Who knows where the tradition of resolving to either start to do something positive or to stop doing something negative for the new year? The Roman god for the month of January was Janus with had two heads. One head looked backward, and the other head looked forward.

Janus was the Roman god of gates and doors. Janus, “held the key to metaphorical doors or gateways between what was and what is to come. Being the God of beginnings and transitions, Janus is the name sake for the first month of a new year.”

Don’t get me wrong, I’m a big believer in enthusiasm, but not when it comes to deciding on making a new year’s resolution, make one resolution. Your resolution should be a challenge to you but doable for you to measure and accomplish during 2022.

After all, it may be the last time.

Ken Beaton of Carson City is a frequent contributor to the Appeal.