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i'm not here - this isn't happening - last entry / next entry - Bernie - 123 | 09.19.02 10:53 pmSo.... Bernie. Bernie is a guy I met at Staples. A really nice old guy. 71. A wonderful personality, good attitude, fantastic outlook on life. He helped me with my Globe Theatre project. He took me out to breakfast. He invited me to hang out with him and two other girls from work. I kept refusing and kept pushing him away. Maybe it was because he was "another old man." I have a strange track record with old men. In the past they've all had strange obsessions with me ranging from slightly unique to certifiable. Bernie thought of me as a good friend. I kept pushing him away, thinking, 'I don't have time for new friends,' all the time realizing that he was a wonderfully sweet man. I got an email from him on Sunday. It read: "Don't know when or where your wedding is so will wish you both the best in the world. Florence and I were married for 42 years. She died one week before our anniversary. Retired early so I could take care of her. She had cancer. Three years later my daughter calloused in my arms. She was 41 years old. In spite of everything, love each other always and never throw the towel in; no matter how rough it gets. Florence and I have been over some big bumpy roads, but we stuck it out. I won't bother you again. Had to wish you both the best before saying good by. Yours always, Bernie" Bernie died on Monday. I found out on Tuesday. I was in a state of shock. I thought he had just been dramatic in that email. On Tuesday, I got another email from his account, although signed by a family member. The email detailed that he was suddenly stricken ill at work and died in the hospital on Monday. I checked the obituaries because I was in denial. Sure enough.... Bernie died. Did he know he was dying and write me that email? On Saturday, when I was at the Scottish festival, he was still alive. On Sunday, when I was working at the restaurant, he was still alive. Today, as I handed people their french toast, Bernie was being lowered into the cold ground. I'm still not quite sure how to feel. Somewhere lost between "it's all my fault" and "I don't have the right to feel upset about his death because I pushed him away." I'm still in denial, that much is sure. I couldn't go to his funeral today. He was buried in Fitchburg. I want to write him a letter and then leave it at his grave. Maybe his angel will read it. I hope he knows how much I appreciated him and loved him. I was such a fool for not letting him into my life. And now I wish I had another chance. Listening to: My heart
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