Audrea Huff

I don't have kids, so I wasn't aware this was a thing till now: Bullying or shaming others because of the color of their text bubble.

I shouldn't be surprised — kids have been teasing others since the dawn of civilization over what they wear, how they do their hair, or how they talk, so I suppose this is the logical next step in the evolution of socioeconomic "microaggressions" (not a fan of that term but it seems to convey the concept here).

This is personal to me: I endured and mostly resented my years in high school, partly because I was a poor kid at a rich school, and we were continually judged and stratified by the brands on the clothes you wore or the make and model of car you drove. I realize this happens at every high school, public or private, but think Beverly Hills High but in downtown Orlando. There were less than a handful of people in my small senior class who did not own a car — and I was one of them. I was chubby and plain and wore only the most stylish Montgomery Ward and Zayre blouses and pants — and I prayed no one would notice and tease me. (News flash: They did.)

Dear David —

How have you been? Your mom tells me that Dex for no reason the other day whimpered and got anxious just like he always used to do when he wanted your attention. It made her feel as though you were in the other room. You know I typically don’t subscribe to ghost stories, but it’s oddly comforting to hear that.

— Scott managed to unlock your MacBook, iPhone and Apple Watch and dropped them off at your mom's, leaving them on the kitchen counter, plugged in. It felt weird to see them sitting there when I was there earlier tonight — it was as though you’d just used them and put them down to go run an errand. Your mom didn't seem to want to keep them and offered them to me. But if it were up to me, they would stay there on the counter forever, waiting for you to pick them back up. Knowing your mom, though, they’ll move from the kitchen table, to the counter, to the living room, to the bedroom, and back to the counter in the span of a couple of days, ha ha. Nothing stays in one spot for too long. That used to drive you nuts.

— Speaking of Scott: You know how I used to feel about him. But I have to tell you, ever since you went away, he's erased all negative feelings I had. He’s honestly been amazing. He took your mom out for Mother’s Day, has helped her with her IT issues, accessed some of your accounts for her, and offered to take her out to lunch a couple of other times. You know what they say about when the shit hits the fan, you find out who your real friends are? He’s left no doubt that he's one of them for sure.

— I haven’t played WoW since February, and it’s all your fault, dammit. It doesn’t feel right to quest without Vim, Squeechy, Terror, or Werehamster guiding and guarding me. I'm still not certain what to do about my account.

— I ran into John I. at the boathouse the other day; I was leaving and he was arriving, and we chatted for a few minutes in the parking lot. I was surprised he didn’t know about what happened to you. I felt bad he had to find out in the brief catchup conversation we had. That was no fun.

— Work has been rough — as you always endured me say — and I apologize for not checking in with you sooner. This is the part where you always scold me with a smile, “Woman! Why you always working! When we doing lunch?” I was never a huge fan of Cheddar’s, which you loved, but what I wouldn’t give to be able to sit and enjoy a dinner there with you again. Anytime, dude.

Been thinking a lot about you today, friend.

I had planned to meet up with your mom tonight, just to chat. But bad weather moved in here, and I didn't think it was safe for me to be on a highway. I felt bad calling out on your mom, who sounded a little disappointed but completely understood. She said today's been a little rough. I didn't want her to spend it alone. The good thing is, she said Stefan and Arthur called her to check up on her.

As it turned out, the bad weather was somewhat short-lived, and I probably could have made it after all. But for a short while, it gusted quite strongly and rained in spurts.

I hope you're having a good time, wherever your travels take you. Missing you lots. Been fighting through a lot of ennui. I haven't played WoW since you went away, and I actually think I'm afraid to. It would just be too lonely.

We haven’t talked in awhile, though I think about you often. I still instinctively reach for my phone to text you when I come across a cool show or weird movie and want to ask you about it. You’re always beating me to them but listen to me geek out anyway.

I’m sure you saw, but Cyndi and I kept our promise to catch up with each other after so many years. It was a lovely get-together, and she seemed to glow with happiness. I got to meet her son for the first time, and he’s a gentleman, of course. She, John and I went out to a riverside restaurant in Dunnellon and chatted about life and politics out on the wood deck. I wish you could have been there because I know you would have enjoyed it.

Your mom is doing her best on her own. I talked with her briefly tonight, in fact, to see how she’s doing. She said she has good days and bad days. She’s gotten most of the loose ends with your bookkeeping taken care of. There’s still a lot more to do on the legal side when it comes to your car accident but she’s handling it better than I could, to be honest. I’m going to try to head up to your place this weekend and help her evaluate what’s in the storage unit.

I also took her to get a COVID vaccination a few weekends ago. We both got the J&J because we didn’t know if we would be able to go back for seconds. So she’s safe from COVID for a while.

Completely unrelated — this is one of those non sequitur things I would bring up out of nowhere as we ran through WoW realms: I had two similar deja vu-like references today that are so odd, they briefly froze me in my tracks. This morning, during a conference call, I struggled to remember the name of a former Florida official with a unique name who resigned and disappeared in January. The conversation quickly moved on, so I dropped it, never having remembered it. Fast forward to the end of my workday, when a coworker sent me a link to a tweet from today about him. He has not been anywhere in the news since January which made that one odd. In the second instance, I mentioned to another coworker that a euphemism used at one of my previous workplaces for severely cutting a story was “Lizzie Bordening” it. 😅 Less than 2 hours later, as I unwound in front of my TV, I tuned into Jeopardy! just in time to see the answer to Final Jeopardy!: Lizzie Borden. Isn’t that weird? I thought you’d appreciate it (read: totally take the opportunity to tease me).

I finally finished all of The Good Place, and of course I should have listened to you when you recommended it to me when it was airing several years ago. You really dug it.

My take: It was one of those rare shows that, like a good book, have you so invested in the characters, you find yourself impatient with the day so you can quickly dive back into the story. The conversations were so quick and witty and full of pop culture references, and the philosophical dilemmas smart. It was like an American version of Terry Pratchet’s Good Omens or a book by one of my favorite authors, Douglas Adams. I also appreciated the multicultural cast.

It was so good that although I’d started in on WandaVision around the same time, The Good Place absorbed all of my interest.

Before you went away, I had been looking forward to lunch or dinner with you so I could tell you that you were right about the show — of course — and share in our love of Janet, who, again, I recall you saying I’d dig. So I’m telling you now: I’m caught up with you now. And yes, though “not a girl,” she was great.

I keep thinking you're going to text, or call, or message, and ask in an annoyed tone if I'll be able to play WoW with you this weekend, or when are we getting together for dinner again, because I'm always so busy?

I could always feel your virtual eye-roll through my phone.

What I wouldn't give to feel that one more time.

It's been a week since The Call. The one after your mom reached out with a message asking me to contact her. She'd only done that in the past when you were really sick and in the hospital -- you'd overcome so many health problems in your lifetime -- so I steeled myself for that bit of news, and as I dialed her back I mentally calculated when in the next day or so I could break free to come visit you.

But this time, I wasn't going to get that luxury. If only you were in the hospital.

It didn't seem real then, and it doesn't seem real now. My brain says it is, though my heart says you're just a call or text away.

You were my best friend for most of my adult life. Still are. And always will be.

We may be physically apart now, but I promise to keep talking to you, both privately and here in this journal. Maybe it's just to make me feel better -- who knows. Hopefully you're listening, even if you can't answer.

Until we meet again, I'll keep you updated on everything going on with me, your mom, and your many, many friends. Just the sheer volume of messages left on your Facebook wall should give you a sense of the fraction of the number people whose lives are better because you were in it.

I can tell you they're all missing you terribly.

Your mom has probably already told you, but just to make sure you know: She's doing as well as can be expected. I talked to her a few hours ago, and she said today has been really hard. It was for me, too. But she is eating and sleeping and keeping busy by trying to figure out what to do with all your stuff. She says if she stops, she'll start thinking, and it gets to be too much. So she keeps moving. I'm worried about her, of course, but I'm glad she's physically well.

The best part is that I and your close friends have her six, so she's in good hands. Chuck is taking care of the lawyer stuff, and Arthur the financial stuff. Scott is helping with your possessions and books. I'll be going over to your condo Thursday night to help her box up some stuff. Your dad is paying for some of the funeral arrangements and said he'll take some of the collectibles off your mom's hands.

Cyndi and I finally plan to get together in the next few weeks -- as we have been threatening to do for a couple of years now -- and talk about how much you touched our lives. You're welcome to join us.

You have some really great friends.

I promise you: Your mom will be OK. I will ensure that. So please don't let that worry you. She will be taken care of.