Hey Buddy,
This letter is long overdue, as are most when written with a little shame and embarrassment. Honestly, this is more for me, knowing you will never read it, yet here it is.
I am under no misunderstanding that this is a letter trying to release my guilt for a lack of understanding. You did not do anything wrong, nor did I, perhaps .....and that is what's bothering me, perhaps I should have done more, even though it was not expected of me. Yet, I believe you deserve an answer even though it was twenty-six years ago, and you're not asking for one.
Let me explain, in the hopes you may understand, I already know in your eyes there is nothing to forgive. To you there is no hate in your heart, in fact I believe you were incapable of it.
You were unaware that it was December 25th, Christmas morning, this day means nothing to you, but it had for me. Yes, I felt lonely when I woke up that morning. No children jumping upon my bed giggling, wanting me to stagger out at six in the morning to see what Santa had brought. No wife to share secret smiles with. Instead, I woke up alone in a hotel room, wondering if the heater would ever get the room to a decent temperature. Freezing last night and now it was like a sauna. I complain, realizing you probably never even had a roof over your head at night.
It was early, the world still slept, yet I needed to go for a walk and take in my new surroundings. The quiet was peaceful, almost soothing, my feet kept moving while my mind wandered off imagining Christmas back home. Soon I found myself strolling down by the waterfront, looking at the yachts' that were moored in the harbor. It was where you and I met. Not to hurt your feelings, but I smelled you before I saw you. While I was lost in thought you silently sat beside me. It was raining again, and the dampness bit through me, I cannot imagine how you felt.
Why did you choose to sit next to me?
Oddly enough you reminded me of my best friend back home, perhaps that is why there was no awkwardness.
The only thing I had to offer you was an energy bar from my pocket, you accepted it like it was a Christmas feast. I talked while you ate. I shared with you the reason I moved to the Island, a mere two weeks earlier. You listened while I rambled on about me starting a new chapter of my life. Explaining why I felt melancholy at having to leave my family behind because my new job started, and we had not yet sold our house back in another province. So, my wife stayed behind with our two children, six and four. While I waited for them to arrive sometime next year, knowing there was much to prepare.
I was not hungry, but I was getting cold and wanted a coffee, but nothing was open except the hotel diner. You walked with me, and I selfishly let you because I wanted the company, knowing they would not let you inside the restaurant. I said my goodbyes and left you standing in the cold.
Twenty-six years later and I still remember that look in your eyes, almost as if our parting were unexpected. While I went in for a warm meal and hot beverage, you stayed out in the chilly rain. I should have thought to order something extra to put in a bag and bring it out to you. But I did not.
When I came out of the diner, you were gone. I wasn't ready to return to the empty hotel room. I was hoping to walk with you for a while longer. Instead, I strolled down empty streets alone. I wish for you to know, I was watching for you, hoping you would be just around a corner, yet we never met again.
It wouldn't be true to say I think of you everyday, but during the Christmas season, I do. When the rain falls and I feel the chill creep into my bones like that morning, then you cross my mind, and I wonder where you went. Did you find someone else who required your company as much as I needed it those many years ago.
Were you my littlest Hobo?
You don't know who that is, he was a wandering dog that came into peoples lives when they needed him the most. Then disappears without a word, going off to help someone else.
Your gone now, it would be foolish for me to think other wise, but if it were possible to see you again I would tell you how much that brief moment meant to me. They say a dog is man’s best friend, whether that is true or not I believe for a few moments you felt like my only friend, and I wish I would have treated you better, at least for a little longer.
Your brief friend,
Jason
About the Creator
JBaz
I have enjoyed writing for most of my life, never professionally.
I wish to now share my stories with others, lets see where it goes.
Born and raised on the Canadian Prairies, I currently reside on the West Coast. I call both places home.
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