Goodbye to limerence

I don't get on Facebook often, as it's just too much to plow through. But I still check in a couple of times a week, as some friends use it to chat with me.

A few weeks ago, I noticed that John Savelle* had sent me a message and I hadn't answered him. So I clicked on his Facebook page. And I found his obituary.

I stared at the page for a minute, then read through the last postings. His daughter had posted news of his death, which was only described as "sudden". She had set up a separate remembrance page, and posted details of an upcoming memorial service.

Although I had no idea how or when it would happen, I'd held on to an illogical belief that we would meet again one day. I even admit I half-expected him to rekindle things after his wife died. I had expected her to go before he did, as she was not only 11 years older than him, he had recently admitted he was her caregiver, not her husband. 

I didn't consider attending the funeral, or sending flowers, or anything along that line. It would have served no purpose, except for possibly upsetting a few people.

I had kept a small framed photo of John on my bookcase for years. Now it's gone. It hurt to see it.

* See The Usual Suspects.