Thursday, August 28, 2008

"Wholesome" Home Made Bread

I don't know why I feel like blogging about this. If you don't like girly, feeling stuff, you might want to skip this one. Every time I bake bread I can't help but to think about an old friend of mine.

This was kind of an odd friendship. I don't know how or why, but somehow this guy and his friends started sitting with me and my friends at lunch in high school. We didn't really run with the same crowd at all. Only we happened to have the same lunch period, and I guess some of his lunch time friends were friends with my friends. Anyway, as I remember it he sought me out for friendship. He started calling me everyday after school. It was like clockwork, I could always count on his phone call. We would talk for at least an hour, sometimes two everyday after school. From his appearance, you'd assume he was a bad boy, but he was really a great guy on the inside. He kind of reminded me of Steven Tyler (Aerosmith) in looks. Anyway, why did we become friends? I don't know. I think he liked me in the crush sort of sense, and I'd have to say that the feeling was mutual. However, neither of us ever made any move in that direction. We were only ever just good friends. He seemed to see something in me that was better than I was at the time. I remember him telling me that he could see me someday in the future baking bread and playing piano. He said he just pictured a husband coming home from work and there I'd be playing the piano with a "beautiful loaf of bread." (He also liked the word "wholesome." Why, I don't know, he said it just sounded cool.) I told him he was silly because at the time, I neither knew how to bake bread or play the piano. The funny thing now is that piano has become my absolute favorite hobby. (He had nothing to do with it. I just fell in love with the instrument.) I remember feeling like I should try to do some missionary work with him, but I was a chicken, and never plucked up the courage to try.

Anyway, about a year after he graduated high school, he was murdered. It was rather horrible. I wanted to go to his funeral, but I didn't. I kind of felt like an outsider. He was the only person in his circle that I really knew. I wasn't friends with his close friends, and I'd never met his family, so I just felt like I would have been out of place. Anyway, I can't make bread or hear the song "Brown Eyed Girl" (That song seemed to play over and over again on the juke box at in the high school cafeteria. He's why it's on my play list.) without thinking about, and fondly remembering my friend who turned out to be right about me.


Dana Cheryl said...

What a beautiful friendship!

Anonymous said...

Never met him, but I have heard about him from you often enough to suspect he is somebody I will like on the flip side. (Although we probably would have clashed in highschool)

It's interesting and cool about how he was able to ... see into your future like that. We had a GA come to our mission who told us about seeing what people will become. Basically he told us that we would be able to describe the people we taught's ...future/potential... to them... and that we should. He described it as sort of an unoffical patricatical blessing...

anyhow... cool.


Bruce said...

its strange how some things will bring back mimories of things time and people. i was outside helping my dad cut a board the other day. the smell of the saw dust gave me a sudden memory of my grandfather who died many years ago. i actually saw his face for a moment. its also strange how when we are younger we think our best friend will always be close to us only to have time and life draw you from them. and when you see them years later, its some how not the same. i have one friend of mine that was my best friend most of the way through highschool and early college years. i am still close to him. we talk almost every week and hang out at least every other month. its strange how strange some things are.

timpani76 said...

They say smell (olfactory?) memory is the strongest kind of memory. The one most likely to evoke strong images. I enjoy nice smells like everyone else, but I don't have an association like your friend and baking bread. Whenever I think of a particular loved one who died to young I always get the song "Only the Good Die Young" stuck in my head.

I'm sorry you did not go to the funeral. For some reason, that seemed like the saddest part.

Anonymous said...

What is it with you and murdered people? You know more mudrer victims than anyone I know.