I have this sorry-ass best friend.  Her name is Garnett Smith.  She is a hermit and lazy and can avoid things you cannot believe.  She didn’t avoid death this past week.  My heart is broken as I loved her like a sister.

Garnett was a state of Illinois employee and like most government employees, got pretty used to being lazy.  Garnett was a registered nurse for most of her life.  She got her start in the Navy.

I don’t remember when I met Garnett.  She lived two houses away from me for years.  I think I met her at my closest neighbor’s when she threw a party.  Garnett wasn’t much for parties, but she loved her music.  I believe we became close when all our friends used to play music in our garage.  The neighbors would put lawn chairs out in their driveway and listen to us practice.  I think Garnett walked over and joined us.

Garnett was pretty shy with her musical talent.  She sang only on occasion and I only heard her play her guitar once.  One of her favorite songs was “Over the Rainbow”.  She played it for me and sang once.

Garnett worked at Singer Mental Health facility when I met her.  I signed up as a temp and got a job working in the facility with her.  My first introduction to this job was the employees discussing a patient who had tied her shoestrings around her neck while wearing her bed sheet.  I had many horrendous surprises while working at Singer.

Garnett and I took walks at noon around the campus.  When we got home from work we would meet up and ride our bikes around the lake which is six plus miles.  We would get halfway around, and she would beg me to turn around and go back because she didn’t think she could make it.  (This was so like everything she did.)  When we made it back to our house she would yell, “Let’s go around again.”  I resisted smacking her.

The Singer place closed down and Garnett and her husband retired.  I lost track of her as she had moved to Rockford.

One day I was at a local gas station and she was working as the cashier.  We started up planning to get together and it didn’t happen.

Years later I got to know Garnett’s friend, Charyl.  She, Garnett and I decided to go kayaking at a nearby lake.  We got to the place and headed for the rental area.  Garnett decided she couldn’t do this, and she wanted to sit in the car and wait for us.  Charyl said, “Absolutely not, you are coming with us.”  We almost dragged Garnett to the checkout.

We got to the kayaks and Charyl went first.  Then I got Garnett settled into the kayak and pushed her into the lake.  She yelled, “There is a snake in the water!”  As I am deathly afraid of snakes I almost backed out.  But I persevered and got into my kayak and pushed off with my oar.

We kayaked out into the middle of the lake.  Charyl and Garnett popped a beer each.  There was no alcohol allowed at this lake.  I joined them in a beer.  Garnett went on and on about how much she loved kayaking.  I threatened to hit her with my oar but was afraid I would overturn.

Two weeks later I discovered that not only Charyl, but Garnett had purchased their own kayaks.  I continued to rent, or borrowed Charyl’s is she couldn’t go with us.

Garnett and I kayaked on the lake where we lived.  It was early morning and hardly anyone was on the lake.  It was so peaceful.

Garnett not being shy about bodily functions was a big belcher.  She proudly let them roar anytime she felt the need.  Out on the lake, her belch roared and echoed.  She was so proud!

Our mutual friend, Terry, had cancer and was very ill.  Garnett and I visited her, and Garnett explained that she also had been told she had cancer of her aorta.  She had surgery and they removed the artery and replaced it with one from her leg.  She was slightly deformed by the surgery, but it was a miracle surgery.  Our friend unfortunately did not have a miracle and passed away.

The surgeon had nicked a nerve in Garnett’s tongue during the surgery and she had so many problems because of it.  She lost two teeth.  She also talked like she was shit faced (which she probably was) but I knew better.  She had a medical marijuana card and enjoyed it frequently.  She also carried a mug which usually had a beer with water in it.  She snuck Rumchata into restaurants and added it to her coffee.

The worst part of the nerve damage was that she couldn’t eat much.  She couldn’t’ chew meat and gave that up first.  She was a steak and potatoes or Mexican food freak.  Breakfast was usually a tostado for her.

She couldn’t’ taste much either and ate mostly French fries with a lot of salt.  I’m saying salt on the plate and dipping the fry in it.

I decided she was going to discover other foods and I took her to a Greek festival and she fell in love with stuffed grape leaves.  We went to an Indian buffet and she ate an entire plateful of food and went back for seconds.  We ate at that buffet many times.  I also introduced her to Thai and Chinese.  She didn’t take to either as she didn’t like or eat rice.

We had many adventures when I got her out of her hermitage.  We went on a tour of the Japanese Garden in Rockford as well as a tour in a boat on the Rock River.  We visited the Nicholas Conservatory and saw the butterfly display as well as the orchid display.  We tried to go to the Rotary Gardens in Janesville but got lost and I was to blame.  Charyl was with us and she gave me what for!

We found out that Garnett had never seen the Rocky Mountains and so Charyl, my husband and I took Garnett to Denver.  We had too much fun as usual.  When we left she called the mountains, “her mountains”.

Charyl had this most wonderful garden at her house.  It was covered and surrounded by lattice.  She had a hot tub, firepit and a dining room in this garden.  We three girls had a sleepover at the garden one summer evening.  We had entirely too much fun and I was surprised the neighbors didn’t call the cops.

I learned many surprising things about my precious friend.  She was half Mexican.  She had a baby when she was young, and his name was Christopher.  He died of SIDs when she and her husband were out for New Years Eve.  She never celebrated on NYE ever again.  She was in the Navy when she was just out of high school but got discharged when they caught her dealing marijuana.  Bless her heart!  She also had polio as a child and had very weak legs as a result.

She also had a daughter.  Her name was Jenny and she lived with Garnett and her husband for maybe a year or two during high school.  Jenny didn’t like living with Garnett and went back to her Dad.  Jenny also, for some reason unknown to me, never communicated with her mother again.  Garnett would visit her on occasion when she went to that town to visit other relatives.

The last few months of her life, Garnett did so many things on her bucket list.  Charyl had moved to Florida and Garnett and I flew down and stayed with her for a few days.  I couldn’t believe it, but Garnett went back not once but several times by herself.  The last time in June, Garnett went parasailing with Charyl.  The next month she, her husband and her son, Peter, went skydiving.

Our mutual friend, Nancy, got a day off from her hell job and Garnett, Nancy and I went out to lunch at one of our favorite places.  They have a deck and you can eat outside.  We spent at least two hours there laughing and enjoying several dishes.  Afterwards we went back to Nancy’s and tried out her new swimming pool.  Nancy’s neighbor, Steve, joined us girls.  We were lounging on our little floaties when Nancy suggested I try her new floatie.  As I jumped on it there was a tremendous wave and Steve was thrown into the air and out of the pool.  I thought I’d pee myself laughing.  I think Garnett and Nancy did.

I am so thankful for that wonderful day because it was the last time I saw my friend.  She became quite ill and didn’t know much of what was happening around her.  The cancer had returned.  Her husband said she didn’t want anyone to see her like that.

My husband got a call last Saturday from Garnett’s husband and he said she had passed that day.  Her husband and son were by her side, as well as her daughter, Jenny.

There is a hole in my heart and soul.  Garnett lived the last five years of her life with fourth stage cancer.  We had so many adventures and I will never forget her.  There will never be anyone quite like Garnett.

What are my favorite songs?

I have so many favorite songs that it is difficult to choose.  One of my most favorite songs is by the Beatles.  “And in the end, the love you take, is equal to the love you make”.  I have always lived by that line in the song.

Of course, Jethro Tull, being one of my very favorite bands, I have several favorites by them.  is one of the most beautiful love songs ever written.  Look into the Sun is also “Reasons for Waiting” a favorite.  “My God” is part of my Pantheist beliefs.  “He is the god of everything, he’s inside you and me.”  “Slipstream” is another favorite Tull song.

"Crazy Love" by Poco is one song I love and I just love to sing. " As the Raven Flies" by Dan Fogleberg is another that I love and love to sing.

Leon Russell wrote another one of the most romantic songs ever written.  It is “A Song for You.”  The hubster and I danced to this song while Leon sang it live.  That is one of the most memorable moments in my life.

Speaking of the hubster, there are two songs that made me fall for him.  Years ago when I was a teenager, I used to listen to the radio at night.  I tuned in all kinds of weird stations and one of them was a Chicago station that was so popular at the time.  They played this song that I fell in love with.  It is “Not Enough Love to go Round.”  The hubster had this album and the song was on it.  It is by Rare Bird.

The other song is not a song but an album.  It is Dvorak’s New World Symphony.  The hubster also had that album.  The section called “Goin’ Home” is really one of my all-time favorites.  When you girls were in choir, you sang that song and I cried like a baby.  Thank you.

What is the best advice your mother gave you?

I Killed My Best Friend

            I killed my best friend. This happened almost twenty years ago and I am still haunted by it to this day.  I’m sure I will never forgive myself for causing this death.

            Boris was my dog and my best friend for nine years.  He was a mutt and he barked entirely too much but there has never been anyone or anything in my life that gave me as much love and devotion as he did.

The first time I saw him, I feel completely in love.  He was part Basset Hound and part collie.  The owner told me he thought he had a little Saint Bernard in him too.  He sure looked it.   He had this huge head for his little body.  He had short little legs and long white fur with a brown saddle that was lopsided.  When he was an adult his saddle looked like a silhouette of Mickey Mouse’s head.  My girls always referred to him as “the Mickey Mouse dog”.

            When I got home from work, he was there to welcome me.  He sat when I told him to and came to me whenever I requested.  He had the cutest method of letting me know when he was hungry or thirsty.  He brought his bowl to me or if it overturned, he would chase it around the kitchen making the loudest ruckus imaginable.  He let me know when the mail arrived or the newspaper came by, barking as if unknown assassins were attacking us.

            I always felt comfortable being at home by myself because Boris let me know if anyone was within walking distance of the house by barking.  He barked at anyone who came to visit us.  If he didn’t quit barking when I told him to, I never trusted that person.  His instincts were always correct.

            Boris loved it when I blew soap bubbles.  He would jump and bite them and jump back in wonder when they popped in his mouth.  I trained him to let me wipe his paws when he came in out of the rain, snow or mud.  I would just say, “puppy paws” to him and he would lift each paw for me to wipe with a towel before he entered the house.

            We bought our home and didn’t have furniture in it for three years.  Our living room was filled with Boris’ toys, dog bones and chews and his knotted socks with which we played tug of war.  We referred to our living room as “Borrie, Borrie Land”.

            A friend once threw a firecracker on the ground at a 4^th of July celebration and Boris sniffed it as it exploded.  Thereafter he was afraid of fireworks, guns and thunderstorms.  I have held him drooling and shaking with fright many times.  We finally got tranquilizers for him for the 4^th of July.

            He was seven years old when my husband and I had our first daughter.  He ignored her mostly and was obviously jealous of my attention to her.  He sat by my side as I nursed her and when she was big enough to be put into her “Johnny Jump Up” he would dodge past her and spin her around to her delight.

            My husband found this Basset Hound and brought him home.  We named his Taylor and he was Boris’ new friend.  We thought that having a buddy might be beneficial for Boris.  He finally took to the second dog, although I don’t think I ever did.  Two dogs inside the house just became too much for me.

            When our second daughter was born, Boris became more of a nuisance than a friend to me.  He would bark when they were napping and awaken them.  Having two little ones less than two years apart, I needed my rest as well during their naps.  I found I could not run to the door to let him back inside as quickly as the neighbors liked.  They complained about his barking.  I tried to appease everyone as best as I could.

            My girls were now getting around the house and were naturally curious about the dogs.  I caught Boris snapping at them on occasion.  I began to fear that he might bite one of them.

            Taylor was also a nuisance.  He taught Boris to drink from the toilet and I constantly had to clean up their messes.  He also taught Boris to eat the garbage.  They would tear into the bags or knock over the trash can while I was away or tied up with the girls.  I became weary of cleaning up their messes.  Two dogs and two children were getting to me.

            Money was tight in those days and we just managed to struggle by.  Two babies in diapers, baby food, groceries, laundry detergent and dog food for two dogs were taking most of our money.  I had to find a part time job and I had to set priorities and take care of things.

            We advertised and sold Taylor to a family and took care of one of our big problems.  Because Boris was an older dog we couldn’t find anyone who was interested in adopting him.  The pet shelter would take him but didn’t promise that he would be adopted because of his age.  He would be put to sleep in a month if he wasn’t adopted by then.

            Boris developed a sore on his rear end and after a while the bump swelled into a large growth that was beginning to bother him.  He would lick at it and rub his behind on the carpet at the most inopportune times.

            We could not afford the surgery to remove Boris’ growth and the vet explained to me that it could possibly be cancer and surgery might not save him.  I made a decision and we carried it through. I could not allow strangers at the pet shelter to put my Boris to sleep.  I knew I would have to do it myself.

            I held my dog as the vet injected the shot that would end his life.  I knew the instant that life left him.  He haunts my dreams to this day.

            After Boris’ death my mother gave me the best advice she has ever given me.  She said, “Just don’t think about it.”  She advised me to know I had made a decision, I had gone with it, it was over and I should get on with life.  That is how I got through the first year.  Boris finally left my constant thoughts.  The guilt has remained but whenever I think of him and am overcome with emotion, I just don’t think about it. Today, I thought about it.  I wrote about it and I think I feel much better about it. 

            I remember my dog daily.  I don’t think a day goes by that I don’t think of him.  I will never forgive myself for killing him.  If there is a Hell, I am positive I will be going there because I killed something that I loved dearly.  I am relieved that I have shared this story.

How has the country changed since I was a child?

I suppose in this day and age, the most obvious change has been in the morals of the elected officials.  In the 50’s people admired our President and elected officials.  These folks had character and grace.  It was unheard of for one to attack another even with their language.  Teachers, policemen, anyone in authority was respected and admired.  My parents taught me to respect my elders.  Kidnappings and abductions were for the famous, not your every-day kid.

The morality of the people was different also.  Ozzie and Harriet and Desi and Lucy slept in twin beds not in a double with each other.  The Ed Sullivan dancing girls were quite risqué with their short costumes and low necklines.  Teenagers were not sneaking off to screw but to share one tiny little kiss.

I believe if an entertainer like Beyonce had come on the Ed Sullivan Show, my dad would have pitched our tv into the yard.  Let alone Madonna or Miley Cyrus!  Our entertainers were clean cut all-American girls and boys next door types.

Children were a lot different.  We did not sass our parents or we would have gotten smacked in the mouth or a belt to the behind or legs.  We knew when and where to comment on adult conversations.  We cleaned up and wore our best outfit to church on Sunday.  And when we got home, we took off that good outfit for play clothes so as not to ruin our Sunday best.

And we played outside.  We played baseball in the lot next door with all the kids in the neighborhood on teams.  No one was left out even if they were lousy players.  The girls jumped rope and played jacks, the boys practiced hitting baseballs or carving stuff with their Boy Scout knives.  We played on the swingset and went down the slide, sometimes head first.  We climbed the monkey bars and rode round and round on the merry-go-round.  We jumped off swings and off the see-saw to see our partner’s face.  We rolled down hills to see who could go the farthest.  We ran through the sprinkler when the days got hot and wore bread bags on our feet in the winter to go outside and build a snowman.  We built tens out of mom’s old sheets and pretended to camp.

Families went on picnics or to the pond to go fishing.  I remember well going to the creek to fish and swim.  We went on hikes in the fall to search for the elusive Pawpaw.  They are a fruit similar to a banana.

Our family sat down to eat together.  We said grace first to be thankful for the food and the health of the people at the table.  We ate simple food but food rich in vitamins and minerals that was grown in our garden.

The country has changed considerably since I was a child.  But I who love technology (if only I could understand and deal with it better on my own) am not sorry for most of the changes.  I do wish that there was a better morality in our society and a better work ethic.

But this society is not my making.  I raised my family and lived among my neighbors with my morals and ethic.  I am satisfied with what I did in my own back yard.  I am proud of how my girls have turned out.  And I am glad to pass on this next generation to them.

Peace be with you.

Photo is of me, my cousin, my friend and her cousin eating watermelon on the porch.

Faye, Jeanie, Trish and me.