Usually, on Facebook, I post a memory from this date; it is from something I put on. This one was by another person, and thinking about it made me smile.
Many years ago, things were different. For a few years, it was the old proverbial cats and dogs relationship. It wasn’t always pretty, and details aren’t necessary, but to use a trite phrase I hate in the past tense, “It was what it was.”
It brings something up for later. My wife became aware that 
certain kids, boys mostly, seemed to get in tussles with others. I remember she asked me various times why, and not being a sociologist, I gave the only answer that made sense to me.
“We’re from a small town, there was really nothing else to do.” We drank some, but I didn’t add that since I figured she knew it. Words to that effect, which she challenged because it made no sense.
Fast-forward 40-45 years. We attended an off-year class reunion. Tom was there. I have a photo of the two of us from that night. It had been since we were in school I’d seen him. While the relationship had been chilly at one time, it was, after all, years ago. I decided to chat with him.
I’m glad I did. We talked about our lives, some from when we were kids to the present. Like most of us, he joined the military, married, had kids, played pool quite well, sang karaoke, loved his family, and was battling a medical problem.
I spoke with others but seemed to gravitate to him for more conversation, maybe because of how things once were and how we followed different paths but ended up with much in common. One thing we didn’t have in common was getting swats in school. We all got them, and girls were not exempt. But, one year, Tom got 199. He kept track because he was in a race with another kid, and his goal was 200.
The discerning reader will note the date he wrote, July 29, 2014. He was acknowledging a birthday greeting from me and had a question. Less than a year later, on April 12, Tom died. Looking back, I’m glad we had that evening together.
Incidentally, as my wife listened and joined in, she asked him the same question she had asked me about this fascination some seemed to have with pursuing pugilism, though not in those words. Tom thought momentarily, then said, “There wasn’t anything else to do.” I laugh now; it was vindication.
Rest In Peace, Tom.