Carol Reiter: Things inside that console me

A long time ago, when AIDS was first getting a terrible hold on people, I lost a dear friend to the dreadful disease.

I had known this kind, special man since he was born. His family and mine were long-time friends, and there were five of us kids who grew up together. We had so much fun, four girls and just the one boy. We played outside until all hours of the night, playing Ditch and Kick the Can and just laughing our heads off.

Jeff grew up to be a handsome young man, and a talented photographer. He lived in downtown Fresno, in a wonderful old home, and then he bought his own home. We visited him to see his new home, and he showed us everything he was doing to the old house to fix it up, yet keep its uniqueness.

Then he was dead. He died by himself, in bed, and his family was devastated. At the funeral, I sat in frozen mourning, and I saw his two sisters and his mother mourn a special man who would always be their baby boy.

At that funeral, I heard the song "Wanting Memories" for the first time. Sung by a women's a capella group, it made me cry until I was sick to my stomach.

I bought that song on a tape by the group, and I listened to it over and over again.

Then I lost the tape, and life went on. I missed Jeff a little less every day, but I thought of him often. He was such a huge, major part of my childhood that I could never forget him. I try to remember the good times with him, and not dwell on the fact that he died way too young.

Then I discovered the song again. After losing both of my parents, and going through some unbelievably tough times, the song struck a chord.

Just a small part of it is

"Since you've gone and left me there is so little beauty

But I know I saw it clearly through your eyes."

It makes me sad to hear that song. It is a song of loss and longing, two things I can certainly understand. But there is another part of the song that also got to me.

"Now the world outside is such a cold and bitter place,

Here inside I have few things that will console."

The world outside IS a cold and bitter place sometimes. But I also have a few things inside that console me.

Those things are my animals. When I come home on a cold, dark day when nothing went right, and I am still broke and without my family, my dogs are ecstatic to see me.

We come into the cold house, and they follow me around, and they do console me. They may not be people, but they are truly my friends. Even when they are dirty and smelly and naughty, they are still my friends, and they still console.

My cat, Slacker, is another thing that consoles me. He absolutely loves me, and can't wait for me to go to bed so he can get snuggled up as close to me as possible. He doesn't care if I push him away, he just wants to be with me.

And when I am especially down, all I have to do is load Jan into the truck, and go to the little pasture where our mares are. With their bellies full of new life and nothing but the future in their eyes, they remind me what is important.

I miss my parents more than I can ever say. I miss the old days, and I even miss having a television sometimes.

But I do have things inside that will console, and they are especially important to me in these short cold days of February. Thanks, guys.

Reporter Carol Reiter can be reached at (209) 385-2486 or creiter@mercedsun-star.com.