I don’t have a filter. I speak what is on my mind.
And that is why I have five friends.
About ten years ago when Google+ was a thing I met Keith. He was a pretty great guy and we shared a love of photography and wandering. We loved to explore and come and share our adventures online.
We became friends through that. Eventually, we became connected on just about every other social media platform.
Along the way I made other friends of course. Some falling away and others lead to new friends before falling away.
I had acquaintance with a lady named Brooke and enjoyed our back and forth. One day in one of her posts, we were ragging on each other, and two other guys jumped in. It went something like this:
Pete: Who the hell is this guy?
Brooke: This is Seegars.
Yoko: (to Pete) Let’s keep him.
And so they did. I didn’t know it at the time, none of us did, but we started a friendship that day.
Pete and Yoko adopted Keith into our group. That put my mind at ease. They both knew each other in real life. Me and Keith knew each other very well, albeit virtually.
I’d love to say that we formed a group that discussed the problems of the world and had Bible reading on Wednesday’s, but no. We didn’t. No this was a conversation that went on every day on Hangouts.
For year’s there wasn’t a day that I didn’t talk to each of the other three. It was a man’s chat—a lot of men’s raunch and jokes. We were free to be who we were in that chat.
And then one day, very suddenly, we lost Keith.
He had a heart attack. He was the oldest of us.
Keith was an old sailor. We called him Skipper.
His wife contacted me and let me know what had happened. It touched me because I was just some guy online, but I found out I was really his friend. He didn’t have many from what she told me. He mentioned me daily as well as Pete and Yoko.
It was a late-night phone call for me. If I remember, it was somewhere around 3 AM here.
Me, Pete, and Yoko talked for a bit on his death.
We mourned him and still remember him on the anniversary of his death.
This is part of the The After. It’s what you do. You mourn. You remember.
You celebrate a life.
This is the first part of what I’ve been wanting to write the past couple of days. I’m working this over in my mind. But it needs to come out.
That’s it. That’s the post.