Gay Today: People

Two True Friends

By Kelly Stone

I once heard said that if you have one true friend in your life, consider your existence fulfilled. A true friend, one that accepts you without reservations, that always sees the good, that is there for you when you need them. A friend that you don't have to see or talk to every day, or every month, or even every year, because just knowing that they are in this world makes it a better place.

I consider myself truly blessed. I married my soul mate. I have two wonderful, healthy sons. I am rich in ways that don't involve money. And in my life, I have had two true friends.

Thom and Michael

We met at a party, February 2nd, 1978. Bored with the party, needing to take a break, I was sitting on the patio, next to a frozen over swimming pool, when Thom walked up, he too, needing to get out for some air.

I immediately noticed his eyes. Green eyes that were so clear, you couldn't help but look deeply into them, thinking you could actually see his soul. But, the harder you tried to look, the less he would let you see. We began talking, laughing, listening to the music that played inside, singing along, making up words as we went along.

We began a very loud rendition of an old rock n roll song that was playing. From seemingly nowhere, someone began singing backup. It was then that we noticed Michael, in the shadows, watching, joining in, in his own way. Sizing us up so to speak before deciding how to proceed. Before long, the three of us were singing, laughing and dancing on the frozen pool.

We were not alike, but very different. We came from different backgrounds, different religions, and different cultures. But we respected each other's individuality and our unconditional acceptance of each other was what bonded us together. In everything we did together, we each played our own part. I'd write it, Michael would read it, and Thom would put it to music. The pieces just fit.

As teenagers do, we had dreams, ambitions, needs to fulfill. Thom and Michael moved to Dallas in the early eighties. I went my way. Over the years, we stayed in touch, but sporadically. On the night before my first wedding, I talked to Thom and Michael on the phone for hours, needing to let them know that I was taking a giant step, needing their support, needing Michael's wisdom and Thom's exhilaration. Michael talked about the true meaning of life, Thom sang to me. It was just what I needed.

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When I was pregnant with my first son, I talked to Michael several times. He was excited, and I was happy. Shortly after his birth, I went to visit Thom, who was in town for his father's funeral. It was a short visit, but it didn't need to be long. We just needed to let each other know that we were all right.

I spoke with Michael in 1991, after the birth of my second son. Things were going good for me, Michael seemed content, and Thom, he informed me, was being Thom.

Three years later, I was going through a difficult time in my life. I needed their gifts. I tried to reach them for several months, but the last phone numbers I had were disconnected. Letters were returned as addressee unknown. For the next few years, I went on dealing with my problems, and knowing that somewhere, Thom and Michael were there, thinking of me too. I had moved without a forwarding address as well, and knew it would be up to me to find them when I was ready.

Another three years past, I had moved to the West Coast. Again, I tried to reach them. This time, I had the advantage of the Internet, but still, no luck. Drinking a toast to them on their birthdays, and knowing that they were doing the same on mine, I knew they were out there, somewhere, pursuing their dreams, fulfilling their ambitions, living their lives to the fullest. It was enough for me to know that.

I recently began my search for my two true friends again. I have a wonderful husband, two fantastic children, a satisfying career, and I am successfully fulfilling a long time dream of mine, exploring my creativity, as Michael would say. I had to share this with them. I had to let them know that I truly feel complete at this time in my life. I had to find them.

This time, the Internet proved to be an invaluable tool. Knowing where to go, where to look, it didn't take me long.

I found them on the Social Security Death Index. Thom had passed in 1992, at the age of 30. Michael, in 1995 at the age of 34. Both of a disease that slowly rendered their bodies vulnerable and eventually took their lives.

Kelly Stone

I was angry at first. Angry that they didn't try to reach me. To let me know. I would have been there for them, I would have done what I could, helped them, sat with them, cried with them. Or, maybe they had tried to reach me? I had changed addresses and left no way for them to contact me, either. I felt selfish, selfish that it seemed like in the past eight years, the only times I had tried to contact them was when I needed their gifts, not to offer them mine. I know very little about the time before their deaths, how they were emotionally, who they were with, what they talked about.

But, I do know one thing. I know they thought about me. I know that before Thom's death, he and Michael had an opportunity to talk of me, wish me well, and tell me goodbye in their own way. The last time we had talked, my life was peaceful, serene. I was happy. They knew I would have been there for them, but I don't feel they wanted me there. Not because they didn't love me, but because they did.

This is not a tale about remembrance or loss. I could write volumes of memories to share, but my memories are mine, few will I share. My friends would not want me to feel a loss, but would instead want me to gain something from their deaths. I know that the knowledge that they were out there, somewhere, has played a significant role in striving toward my own dreams. So, from their deaths, I will gain inspiration.

I have a picture of myself, sitting on a rock, relaxed and happy. There is an orange flower on my shirt, one that Michael had insisted I wear because it was such a great color. Thom took the picture, while Michael was showing him how to work the camera, which is why I was laughing. I have no pictures of my two friends, but I look at this picture of me and I remember how it felt to have them in my life.

I know they are not with me any more or any less, than when they were alive. But, I know they loved me, and wanted the best for me, and it makes me want to fulfill my dreams with an even greater intensity. I know somewhere Michael is watching, proud that my artistic side has finally begun to emerge. And Thom, well, I know he has gone way beyond simply singing. Thom, I am sure, is now leading the choir.