Thanks for the Coffee, Bill

{photo from http://caterersguild.org}
As I write tonight, Cole Hamels' butt is gracing my television screen. I have been enjoying the Phillies for a couple of years now. Opera has destroyed any will for me to leave PBS on tonight, which normally I love. I am settling for a 2010 Mets/Phillies game. That's right. A game that has already happened. The good thing is, I don't remember the outcome. If you ask me, Cole Hamels looks like a slightly older Zac Efron.

I digress so far from what I had actually thought about writing tonight. Damn men. Damn hot men. Pfffffff. Getting in the way of my words.

Seriously though, tonight most people are still talking about the death of Dick Clark. It is definitely a big ticket death. I have to say that I'm glad to have watched his Rockin' Eve into 2012. I always thought it was courageous and endearing that he would still do the show, post-stroke.

The end of the summer of 2009, I packed up my belongings from my cute little and coveted abode in the center of the small town that I lived in and moved into another smallish town one state over. I had decided to move in with someone after an extremely brief time together...however, we'd known each other as 12 and 13 year olds so it felt as though I knew him well.

In the back of my apartment house was such good fortune....a man who owned a coffee roasting company had his business there. He also lived in the apartment above the shop. When I had moved in, Bill was an amazing Welcome Wagon. He carried up the fire escape a huge urn of coffee for me and my movers. I remember feeling so welcome and think I may have even posted about it at the time.

But upon leaving, my partner and I were standing on the fire escape looking down toward the roaster. Bill came out, looked up and said to him, "Take good care of her!" Now, I'm thinking, that's a pretty normal and cliche thing to say. I think most women have heard that at some point in their lives. Which means that a lot of men say it. My partner seemed off when he replied that he would. Then he said to me directly that he was basically insulted that Bill would say that. One thing I would learn is that Partner could not handle if he thought someone was saying anything that alluded to telling him what to do. He conveyed to me that Who was this guy to tell him? I was glad that he didn't say anything loud enough (I don't think) so that Bill could hear him. I was certain that it was harmless.

Two and a half years later, I find myself having just moved into my own space in this small town. It's been a rough, very rough, two and a half years. Having finally come to this decision and spending my very first night here only four nights ago, I saw tonight a post on Facebook, telling me that Bill, who was only 50, passed away within the last 24 hours. Bill who I hadn't really spoken with since I left the neighborhood. I find it to be quite the timing that when I disengaged myself from the relationship, Bill passed on, although one has nothing to do with the other.

But here is another heartfelt cliche -the wish for the deceased....Bill, I hope you are up there with a roaring bike that has a cup holder to secure your dark roast. Thank you for your friendship.