Gone, but never forgotten

"Gone, but never forgotten."

"To Charlie," they all responded, downing a shot of his favorite tequila. Everyone's eyes were on me, the poor widow. They seemed to be expecting something though I wasn't sure whether it was a speech thanking them for showing up for the memorial, more tears of grief, or the customary silence they were used to from Charlie's little wife.

"Another round," I said to the bartender. "It's what Charlie would have wanted,"I said to the myriad faces that seemed surprised to hear me speak.

"Here, here!" A few voices shouted.

Two more shots and I was three sheets to the wind and ready to say what I'd come to say.

"I want to thank you all for coming out to help me celebrate the life of Charlie Nichols, the best man I have ever known." I heard a spattering of affirmation amongst the group.

"Charlie was always there for everyone, whether to help paint a house, listen to a problem, or with a dollar or two." I paused. "Or thousands."

Some uncomfortable laughter.

"So, imagine my surprise when slowly, one by one, all of Charlie's besties fell into a black hole as Charlie battled for his life these last ten ears."

Some squirming ensued.

"Where were you then? When he needed to hear a friend's voice, hold a loved one's hand. Of course, he had mine, but what happened to you?" I asked in a soft voice full of hurt for my beloved.

"Were you afraid he'd ask you to pay back all the loans he gave you over the years to help pay for his medical bills? He had every right, but you knew him. He would never dream of asking anyone for anything. He was a giver through and through.

"So, where were you when he was still here to appreciate your presence? Where were you when he needed reassurance he was loved and needed and that his was a good life worth fighting for?" I looked around.

"Was it too hard to watch a friend suffer and die?" I paused. No one would make eye contact. "Imagine how much harder it was for Charlie to endure that suffering with only my shoulder to lean on after having been there so often for so many, if not all, of you. Was it too much to expect that you be there for him? To expect even a phone call on his birthday?"

"Charlie was my husband, but he was also my best friend. My heart broke every time the phone rang and it was a scam or a telemarketer when he was hoping it was one of you. I watched the light die in his eyes as his illness ravaged his body. When he needed you, really needed you, he discovered he had been forgotten.

"So, forgive me when I say you are full of shit when you say, 'Gone, but never forgotten.' You forgot him a long time ago."