What do you do...the death of someone you knew nothing about

This is not an idle question.

Since Wu Flu and Jab Hysteria, I'm checking the online obits.  Alla time.  Several people I didn't expect to find, I have found...two were probable Wu Flu or Jab casualties; others, out of the blue.

This one, though....

We all have a past.  We all have long-lost friends, and girls, and former future-wives.

I had one such.  I could kick myself, now, for years, how badly I misread this.  Not for a few months; for EIGHT YEARS, from second grade to ninth.

"Big Judy."  Not her actual name, BTW; close enough.  She was...pleasant looking, nothing spectacular; just a bit larger than most of us.  She got a little guff for that.  NOT fat - flat-bellied - just tall and rawboned.

She had her friends.  And, when the hormones kicked in, she focused on me.

I was not ready.  Really.  It is what it is.

Where we were, then, was a parochial school.  Her parents, and mine, were members of the church, of course; we were in a group Confirmation Class...somewhere there's the photo.  Two boys and twelve girls, and Judy and Paula were all over me in that shot.  Paula was such a brainiac, it was terrifying.

Judy was more average.

Four years later, and I'm nine months on my own, home for the holidays, and - to please my mother - I went with her to church on Christmas 1976.  There, I bump into Judy...and the hormones were so heavy, it stank.  Man, I was REALLY not ready for this.  I was learning the reality of living on Minimum Wage, and she was basically wearing a metaphysical sign:  I WANT YOUR BABY.

I blew it, big-time.  She got the message.

Six years after that, the economy implodes, I'm temporarily living with my parents again, and a volunteer delivery type (from the church) brings by a bound member yearbook.  This is the Reagan years, and everyone's more prosperous.  Except me - that came a few years later.

I find out "Judy" is with her parents in the photo, but identified by a married name.

Nine months after that, I catch up with another classmate of the time, and find out some of the details.  Judy got married fast.  Not pregnant - the first baby was two years later; she just wanted to get hitched. Cut contact with many old friends, as she was living in another part of town.

Okay.  Did some searches.  Lee.  I could find nothing else.

Time goes on.  My mother, now elderly, had taken our vacation cabin and turned it into seasonal rental property.  Wise move.  But she spoke of "Judy and the girls" so much; and what a support Judy was to her, in their Bible Study group.

Good grief.  You know, when your wife and your mother are the best of friends, life is good.  ...I MISSED THAT?

Judy would get a three-week vacation stay in that cabin, no longer as primitive as it was when we (the males of the family) built it...it was a nice cottage by this time.  The three, mother and the kids, would have a free stay every year, because, reasons.

That was fine.  I'm glad my mother had friends.  I'm sorry for my bad choices.

Time goes on further.  My mother dies.  Judy's parents are there; but not Judy.  Judy's father, Edwin, is there...takes me aside, asks how I feel, about the deaths - first my father, and then my mother.  Sincere questions.  We talk for a bit.  Frankly, it's the first talk I had as an adult (not a child to a grownup) I ever had with him.

I asked, where's Judy?

Uncomfortable silence.  She had other things to do.

Yes, I understand, of course.  So many funerals I didn't attend because I didn't want to see others.  It was so obvious I regretted the question - Judy simply didn't want to see me.

It is what it is.

Here we are.  I was searching names, and her husband's name came up.  I knew nothing of him.  Turns out, he was, two weeks younger than I was; lived almost EXACTLY the same life I did.  Went to work for a city DPW; then got out; then did freelance work (truck driver) for some years.  Between the OTR driving and his pension, he probably had a good life.

Died of pancreatic cancer, this summer.

Had I gotten into a bigger city DPW than the little town I had wound up in...that would have been me.

That all is sad, fearful, spooky.  How close he was to me.  How with just a bit more social aptitude, back in 1973 or 1976, the young girl who became my mother's close friend, could have been my wife.

My head's reeling with this.

Sorry to hear that. You did know her. Through her you related to him.
My sympathies

I have found in troubled times going for a walk is beneficial.

I do that every day...three miles, for my health.

It's how I remain relatively-sane in this lunacy.

I'm slowly weaning myself off electronic media...like a crack-addict cutting back. I take those walks. It was what I was doing, today, and yesterday, and the day before, during daylight: Walk to the storage-center garage I rent, get out my Urban Cruiser Yamaha (TW200) and take care of routine errands...eggs or cheese or marked-down chicken or canned goods. Drop them off at home; garage the bike; walk back home.

And then get gobsmacked with things like this.

Don't drive yourself crazy over your past. You could just as easily have dodged a bullet. Maybe Judy's husband got cancer because of something she exposed him to.

I had some relationships that I blew before I met my wife. Considering my wife cheated on me after 30 years of marriage, did I miss out? I have 3 sons. What children would I have had with the others? There's no going back, so don't let it eat at you.

It's what you're not saying. ....What you're thinking

What would that be?

I'm realistic, I like to think. Wild sex is a memory. I haven't seen Judy's picture; but I've seen so many others who are my age.

We are not beautiful objects of lust, not anymore.

As I type this, I think. What if Judy appeared in my life, here in Montana? I'd be courteous, absolutely. Would I want to push sex? I'm white-haired. Lee was white-haired. Probably Judy is grey-haired.

That's the stuff of a pornographic farce.

All that's left is, childhood memories. I never knew her as a grownup - my mother did, but that was over 15 years ago.

It's a place we can never go back to. Could we find common ground, now, me, the hermit, her, the widow? I don't know. I don't think I'm curious enough to explore it.

She is a friend.

Just as in life, some memories live on, some fade, some die.

There is only the present and the future.
The present is past in a mere second.
The future is all we have. No matter how bright or bleak it may be.

You sound strangely curious to me and that is not a criticism.  Mlions of people reconnect.  I wonder if it might not be the thing for both of you.. it would require  most delicate handling.