Memorial

Pen Pals

A requiem

John Miller (“Miller Man”) and I were pen pals. We never wrote to each other. It was a different type of pen pal. We exchanged pens, actual pens, every time we saw each other. His were always blue Arapahoe Basin pens he copped from the ticket desk. Mine were pens I acquired from anyplace I went. Banks, realtors, trade shows, restaurants, mortuaries, bars, other bars, and other bars. I traded all of those for A-basin pens that lasted for two-and-a-half signatures each, in warm weather.

It was just a stupid inside joke we had. Every time we met, we’d swap pens, shake hands, and say hello. In that order. It was a personal bond that John made with me. Just like the personal bonds he made with everyone he knew. I thought I was special, but that’s how John made everyone feel. We were all special to him, and we were all special for having known him.

Even when he was sick, it was all about us. How were we doing? It was never about how John was doing. He always placed others’ well being above his own.

He brought out the best in all of us. I knew he was apt to trip over things, so sometimes I would hurry ahead to move obstacles out of his way. I tried to be discreet, but he must have seen what I was doing. He never made it awkward by mentioning it, and he paid me back by never tripping over anything when he was with me.

I like to think he’s still my pen pal. I still have some for him. Maybe he can sneak out one of God’s pens for me. I’m sure God would be happy to give him one. They must be on a first name basis by now, or if not, it would be, “Hi, God.” “Hi Miller Man, you need another pen?” I would write with that every day. I’m sure it would last longer than the blue A-basin pens.

I’ll be sure to bring two A-basin pens with me when I go. One for John, and one to replace the pen John sends me from God. I can just see God signing commandments with an A-basin pen. Of course, he could only sign two and a half more commandments, but that’s probably all humans could deal with right now.

Note from author:

I wrote this as a catharsis. Perhaps it will help others uncover their feelings from a loss. It’s hard, but it helps me to put my feelings into words.