No One to Tell

The word came today
That an old friend had died
A special one.
Someone, that all who knew me
Then,
Back then,
Would understand the pain
Her going would bring.
I reached for the phone
For I thought that I needed to tell . . .
But she’s gone, too.
And I should tell . . .
I hung up the phone
For there’s no one left to tell.
No one who shared that history with me.
No one who would understand.
How the news caught in my throat
And filled my eyes with tears.
The years flew and
I remembered when she found my first grey hair
While rolling around the floor
In front of her fireplace
Listening to the Beatles
Sing “Things We Said Today”,
Our song through the years.
And I thought of the time
Years later and many miles away
When I introduced her to someone.
Who, as he left
Said quietly to me,
“That is the most beautiful woman
I have ever seen”.
Then I thought of the years apart,
The miles,
Of how we wrote every day
For more years than I can remember.
Deep in our teenage puppy love
That grew to so much more.
My oldest friend
Of now 45 ½ years.
The one who put “favorite”
In my favorite summer, 1964.
And I wanted to call
And say “Cookie died”.
But to whom?
Who now?
For I have made the same call
In turn
About each of the ones I want to tell.
And now there is no one left
To remember how at 14
I hitch-hiked
Half-way across the country to see her
Or how years later
We still found time to spend together
Now and then.
No one remembers she was my first love.
Lord, Lord,
It seems that there should be someone
To tell
Someone to share the news
Who would understand
The tears in my eyes
And pain.
Pain now for her
And pain for those with whom
I would have shared the news.

Michael Mathews
August 7th 2009
12:23 PM
Home – Beaumont
Now listening to the Beatles . . .

-----Original Message-----
From: Cindy Lee
Sent: Friday, August 07, 2009 09:36 AM
To: funx@itsmichael.com (Ed. x added to beat the spambots)
Subject: Sad news; sad times

I would have called but I don't have the number anymore.  The one I tried is disconnected 409.767.9299.

I would rather have talked to you about this but maybe this is best. I have news, sad news, and a message.

The message first from Cookie.  I have a letter for you but she said to call you first and give you the news. Neither of us have your address.  She said to find that old Beatle song, you'd know the one.  And mix up some big gin concoction.  And just for a moment think about that first kiss on the bridge and rolling around her mother's floor in front of the fireplace listening to that song. She said take a minute and know that she loves you to this very day, her oldest friend.  She said to tell you there is more in the letter but she wanted you to know now.   I'm so sorry, Michael, but she died.  She didn't want anyone to know she was sick.  I don't know what else to say.  I just can't cry anymore.  Call me when you get a chance.  The number is the same.

Love, Cindy