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Yesterday I found out a friend of mine from college died. His wife posted on Facebook to let everyone know. I was aware he had been having health problems, so it wasn't an absolute shock. We hadn't really talked in several decades, though. Without Facebook we likely would have completely lost touch with each other; I would have neither my vague understanding of his more recent life experiences nor the knowledge of his death.
He was the first person I met and became friends with in my freshman year. I was playing one of the arcade games we had in the tiny side room at the base of our dorm and he wandered in and started up a conversation. I expect, back in the day, a girl playing Joust was an unusual enough occurance to warrant an introduction.
He later invited me to play Shadowrun with his two friends from the eleventh floor. My kids have been regaled with my opinion, formed during this experience, of first edition Shadowrun as an extremely unbalanced roll playing game. Still, after that, we moved onto other games and other activities, and those three became my stalwart companions until I dropped out of college and moved halfway across the country.
I went back to visit once, and Paul gave me some very good advice at the time. I was feeling guilty over a breakup and hurting someone dear to me. He pointed out that broken hearts were the natural result of failed romantic relationships and that I would certainly get my heart broken someday, too, so I should not beat myself up about the ones I break.
He was right.
He wasn't much older than me, so I don't know how he knew so much back then. He did end up marrying the girl he met during our second year at school and she is his widow today, so he probably knew a thing or two about relationships.
Rest in peace my friend.
ETA: I have on occasion told the story of two friends who refuse to eat at Taco Bell: one because he doesn't like Mexican food and one because he does. Paul was the friend in the story who didn't like Mexican food.
He was the first person I met and became friends with in my freshman year. I was playing one of the arcade games we had in the tiny side room at the base of our dorm and he wandered in and started up a conversation. I expect, back in the day, a girl playing Joust was an unusual enough occurance to warrant an introduction.
He later invited me to play Shadowrun with his two friends from the eleventh floor. My kids have been regaled with my opinion, formed during this experience, of first edition Shadowrun as an extremely unbalanced roll playing game. Still, after that, we moved onto other games and other activities, and those three became my stalwart companions until I dropped out of college and moved halfway across the country.
I went back to visit once, and Paul gave me some very good advice at the time. I was feeling guilty over a breakup and hurting someone dear to me. He pointed out that broken hearts were the natural result of failed romantic relationships and that I would certainly get my heart broken someday, too, so I should not beat myself up about the ones I break.
He was right.
He wasn't much older than me, so I don't know how he knew so much back then. He did end up marrying the girl he met during our second year at school and she is his widow today, so he probably knew a thing or two about relationships.
Rest in peace my friend.
ETA: I have on occasion told the story of two friends who refuse to eat at Taco Bell: one because he doesn't like Mexican food and one because he does. Paul was the friend in the story who didn't like Mexican food.
