Ingrid, my friend of over 30 years, has died. A friend I knew very well a long time ago, but with whom I had been out of touch until January of this year when we reconnected via Facebook. In June I discovered that she was ill, and only three days ago I learned that she had died. At 64. A hardy woman I fully expected to outlive her husband and the rest of her family of crazy Germans who my husband and I met at Canton Trades Days back in the 1980’s when we were all looking for ways to make money without having to succumb to 9 to 5 jobs. And we figured it out – all of us who befriended each other back then – and we’ve been working in those independent enterprises since that time.
Ingrid had a wide smile and flowing brown hair. She was married to Klaus, a musician who was charming, talented and full of opinions, which he felt comfortable shouting across a table at you when you disagreed. His mother was a woman we came to know very well since she lived with us for two years and worked as a nanny for our children. We met all of Klaus’s siblings – three in number – and had a close relationship with his brother, Chris, and his sister, Annie. For a period of almost ten years, we saw each other often considering we lived in different parts of the country, then Klaus’s mother died, and shortly after that, Ray and I moved to California. As a result, we grew apart.
Until yesterday when Ray and I drove 300 miles to attend Ingrid’s funeral and to see our old friend, along with his now grown-up daughter, Chela. Our old friend whose face beamed with happiness the minute he saw us, and with whom we instantly experienced that same camaraderie despite the years that had passed since our last meeting. We laughed and chatted for much of the morning and afternoon, as if we’d just seen each other a few days before. When we said good-bye, we resolved to stay in closer touch. I believe we will thanks to Facebook. I believe we will, as well, because this is the beginning of a new era in our friendship. One that is different from before since Ingrid’s death brings new challenges to Klaus’s life.
Klaus is my first peer to lose his spouse and I must say that my feelings are a bit complicated. I feel a true sadness for him since the connection he shared with Ingrid ran deep. I also feel a bit protective of him since he isn’t someone who has had to deal with many day-to-day household matters for a long time since that was Ingrid’s domain. He is facing a major life adjustment, yet yesterday when I saw him he was calm and kind and open-hearted and philosophical. The whirlwind of death, funeral arrangements and visitors were responsible at least in part for his state of mind, but I found myself feeling fearful of the pain he is going to experience once all the hub-bub has receded and normal life has resumed. He is a survivor, first and foremost, so I expect that he will be fine in the long run, but I can only imagine how the next period of time will be. I know many others have faced the death of a spouse – I fear that possibility for myself at some point in what I hope is the VERY distant future – but to have someone you know very well staring this level of loss full in the face evokes feelings of protectiveness that I have not previously experienced.
Chela, Klaus’s daughter, is grieving, too, of course, and I am sure she will miss her mother terribly since they were very close. Still, she looks as if she has the ability to remember the best of times and to use her mother’s teachings as guideposts throughout her life. It is apparent that Chela has a solid footing in this life and she conveys a genuineness of character that can only serve her well. Of course, she and Klaus will be of great comfort to one another over these next months. They are very lucky to have such a warm and supportive relationship.
I’m sorry that I didn’t see Ingrid before she died. I would have loved the opportunity to hear her musical laugh once again. However, I’m very happy to have reconnected with Klaus and Chela at this very tender moment, and am grateful to be reminded that true friendship doesn’t diminish with distance or time, but instead grows stronger. Ingrid’s death has brought old friends back together. What joy there is in the re-establishment of that very special bond!
Ingrid, may you rest in peace, my friend. You are loved.
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