In memory of Bink...

Although I'm not one to think of the spiritual realm that often, I'm not one to dismiss occurrences as pure coincidence. This week has been a trying week for me, as most are, and I slept fitfully last night. When I woke up at 4:30, my thoughts drifted to a man who I had lost touch with over the last year or so but who I considered a dear friend. Oh sure, I had made lazy attempts to contact him but to no avail. You know how it goes. Send email. Email comes back rejected. You think "stupid spam killers" and then you make a mental note to pick up the phone in the next hour, or day, or week or month. When I would finally get around to calling him in those moments when I either couldn't stand work anymore or just needed a break, the number would automatically roll to "you've reached the voice mail of ."

At that point, I didn't want to leave a message and would vow to call back in a few days, weeks, months. This happened a few times over the last year and with each successive time, I considered various reasons that I wasn't able to find my friend. The simplest explanation in my head was I knew he had had eye surgery and I was thinking maybe he was out on long term disability. Then, the psyche would start pondering and go from 1) something went wrong with the eye surgery and he can't see and therefore had to give up his job or 2) he hated me and had figured out some secret way to ignore me. Neither one of the preceding options would be something a rational person would think so, once I level set my head, I would go back to thinking that he's busy, I'm busy, that's life.

But what made me think about him this morning? I don't know, but it was enough that before even grabbing coffee, I walked to my computer, booted up Google and plugged in his name to see what I could come up with. The first thing that appeared was a description of a University of Cincinnati publication so I figured I had hit the mother lode and could figure out the whys and wherefores by opening the UC pdf. Once in the 37 page pdf, I typed his name in the Adobe search bar, and it took me to almost the last page. There he was listed, receiving an honor, under the heading...

In Memoriam

I stared at the text. I read the paragraph 4 times at least trying to figure out if this was truly him. It said that the day before he was to receive the award from the school was when he passed away. I kept reading again. Because his first name was quite unusual (one he hated and didn't want anybody to call him), I knew that was him. It was too early to cry. In fact, I didn't even know how I felt. But I did know I wanted to know more. So, I went to the Cincinnati newspaper web site and opened the obituary tab and started my search. How fitting that his obituary listed his name without the horrid first name he had hated, a name his father had given him based on his American Indian ancestry and which probably, had I probed him more, caused irreparable damage when he was in elementary school. The obituary said "died suddenly on May 6, 2006, at the age of 42. A blessing will occur on May 9 at the xxx Funeral Home."

Now I had corroborated what I already knew was true. My beloved Binky (shortened to Bink), as he was nicknamed by a friend of mine, had left without saying goodbye. Soon after the tears came, welling up inside me from places in my heart that I didn't know about. I had lost a friend, a former lover, and one of the most brilliant acquaintances who brought great joy, giggles and energy to my life. I feel such guilt of having lost touch with him. How could he have been gone that long and me not know or care? How could I have not known that he would never go this long without calling me or sending me a "just checking in on you" email? By now, his family is healing and my tears are new.

I still think back to a dark time in my life. I called Bink and told him what was going on. He listened patiently, offering advice and then asked for my mailing address at work. I gave it to him thinking that he was going to send me one of the funny, obscure cards that he sometimes sent just to cheer me up. In a few days, a package arrived. In it, there was a Barbie doll, with a post it note attached. It said simply "Janie, I know you always wanted a Barbie and I figured it was time that you finally had one. This is Reva's (his daughter) favorite." The thing that made that gift so special was that I had told him many, many months ago that, as a child, we were poor and every year I would wait for Santa to bring a Barbie. When Santa didn't, I would always be sad. Granted, I could buy 20 Barbies for myself now but it wouldn't be the same. Bink remembered that, and with his lovely way of comforting me, sent the Malibu chick to watch over me since he couldn't. To this day, Barbie adorns my desk..in her box..with the note from Bink still attached.

I mourn you, Bink. You were someone that I know never fell out of love with me and the feeling is mutual. Life and distance complicated matters and we moved to different levels of relationship. I think I'll end this blog entry in the same form as many of our funny emails that we sent back and forth to each other -- haiku. I think you would chuckle to know that my last tribute to you is in this matter. My love to you wherever you are.

Binky has left me

No more Buck LeSabre or

Pinky Flambe jokes

His laugh and his spark

His world domination plans

Will not be missed soon

I cry for you now

But Barbie will watch over

We will meet again