Rooms Less Crowded

For the past two days I've been learning of the death of an ancient family friend named Nancy, who I knew in my old Long Island neighborhood. I had not seen her since the early 1970s and I never was personally close to her, but our two families have had ties since I was five years old.

Nancy was my buddy's sister, and he (Bob) died when we were 19, by accidental drowning. Bob was the first of his family to go, and he was the fist person who was that close to me who died. We were inseparable pals for the preceding five years. The story of his death is a huge matter to me.

Nancy was also a school friend and age-mate of my sister's. During many of those years they were close friends who spent a lot of time together.

Nancy was a pleasant girl with straight, dark hair. She was intelligent and well-liked, doing all the things you'd expect her to do. Her family background was German-American, but not with any ethnic culture still attached. I have no memory of them mentioning the immigration story.

Tragedy has stalked the family. Now only two of the family of seven that I knew growing up remain among the living. When I heard of Nancy's death I somehow thought it was due to illness, but I learned a few hours ago that she took her own life. Depression had been tormenting her and she lived in an extremely boring place where her long career as a manager in a mirror factory ended with the jobs all went to Mexico. Her husband died about a year ago. She had chronic neck pain as well, and the medications created another layer of difficulties.

She eloped with a 33-year old married man who was her and my sister's boss at a little eatery in a shopping mall, when she was 18. The affair had been an absolute secret (she was underaged when it started), and both families were shocked. His wife and 2 small kids was devastated, never forgiving him.

They moved to the South, where they had 2 children. Both of Nancy's parents died in the following years --not from old age --and then her other brother George (who was also my friend, but less close than Bob) killed himself.

One reason I have my cat's face here is because I have no picture of Nancy. In fact I have only one of her brother Bob. When I shared that picture on facebook a few years ago, it turned out to be the only surviving image of him on Earth. All their family photographs have been lost or destroyed over the years.

Growing old, the rooms grow less crowded.