Be good to your friends
Three years ago today I lost one of my best friends in a mountain climbing accident, and three days later, sometimes about 9-10pm I came across an email from a close friend of ours telling me to call him at any time. Stupid me thought it was good news. And it was only when I had to re-read the email to get the second phone number (he had listed three different numbers) that I realized the instruction to call him “at any time of the day” was not an indication of good news.
Patrick Wang was my first friend when I moved to the US. His house was about a 10-15 min. walk from my apartment, though later on getting to his house became a matter of crossing the backyard of my apartment, someone else’s backyard, that same person’s front yard, and then across the street and a few houses down the left.
I still remember the first time I had to call-in sick and miss school for a day. Pat was the person I called to ask about homework (all I remember is the awkward English I used, specifically, “… from what number to what number?”). I remember being so nervous as I was speaking a foreign language, despite the 2-3 years of classes I had already received by then.
But that was all in the distant past.
A few years later we developed a close friendship (especially after the infamous “Doc Project” for our Advanced World History class in 10th grade) and he was also the first person I called and got in touch with after moving to Alabama in the summer between my 10th and 11th grade. He was “quite honored” I recall him saying over the phone. And since then our friendship was nearly exclusively phone/email based as we were always quite a distance apart, though we were geographically nearby when I attended university in Connecticut and him in our hometown State College, PA. However, where I ended-up in Boston after graduating, he ended-up at first in California and then Oregon. And so our phone/email friendship continued.
Actually, now that we were on our own and could afford our own phone bills the “phone” portion became a bit more noticeable though it was still mostly all emails. And to this day this is where I really feel that I dropped the ball.
When I still lived in the US he called me up once a month (almost religioiusly) but sometimes I avoided his call. And now, now I can only wonder what he would have thought of Sydney as he was set to visit around mid-2005.
So today, on this day, I promise and hope to be a better friend to all my friends, many of whom I know I’ve neglected. Just as Pat called me up once a month, then maybe it’s up to me to keep in touch with some of you.
He was a friend, a rock star, a nerd, an Intel engineer, an adventurer, a traveller, a photographer …
… a dear friend whom I sorely miss still.
