So much of life is about timing, particularly in the case of personal relationships.
When my first wife and I separated in January 1980, I had no idea it would be nearly 13 years before I remarried. I actually met someone very special and started dating her less than a month after moving out.
We dated on and off for two years and stayed in touch after that.
That first summer, we went to New York to cover the 1980 Democratic Convention for our college paper. I was staying at my aunt’s house out on Long Island. Late one night, my aunt and I were sitting at her kitchen table talking, and I was going on and on about how wonderful my new friend was.
My aunt said something extremely prescient. “She sounds great. It’s a shame you didn’t meet her later.”
I remembered that nine years later when “When Harry Met Sally” came out, and Meg Ryan was talking about her ex-boyfriend.
“He just met her… She’s supposed to be his transitional person, she’s not supposed to be the ONE. All this time I thought he didn’t want to get married. But, the truth is, he didn’t want to marry me. He didn’t love me.”
As it turns out, everything is about timing. When I met Nicole in September 1992, it was only because a woman I had been dating decided things were going too fast and we should take a 30-day break to see other people.
I met Nicole and I never saw the other woman again.
As for my wonderful friend from 1980, our last date had been earlier that year. April 29, 1992, to be exact. If you think it’s odd that I know the exact date, I was living in Anaheim and she was in Los Angeles on business. Her meetings were cancelled because it was the first day of the massive L.A. riots over Rodney King.
She came down to Anaheim and I took her to Disneyland.
A fun last date.
Within a year, we were both married to other people and remain so after more than 28 years.
In the 1990s, her mother died. I sent her my condolences and said I thought her mom had been a great lady.
“She always liked you,” she said. “She said we would have had beautiful children.”
Neither of us ever had children of our own, although I was blessed to be a father to Nicole’s two kids, maybe two of the most wonderful children in the world. They were, are and will remain two of the greatest joys in my life. Next of course are my six grandchildren, and lest you wonder, my wife Nicole is at the top of every list.
But my faithless first wife is a lot farther down the list, and my friend of 41 years is right there below my family. I wish her only happiness and long life, and if I live so long I forget almost all the details of my life, I will remember her.
If we were never more than close friends, that’s hardly a tragedy.
Nothing matters more than friendship.
Nothing.