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My Best Friend

Stevie was my first friend, long before either of us even went to school.  We often dressed up like cowboys and rode tobacco stick horses across the freshly plowed fields; desperados on the run.  We were wanted men like Jesse James and Billy the Kid with Pinkerton’s men hot on our trail.  We both swore to be friends forever and always be there for each other.  We were in truth first cousins, but it felt more like brothers.  He would spend several weeks on the farm with me and I would stay with him in Myrtle Beach.

There was an Indian graveyard in the woods near his house and another gated cemetery across the street with graves there from the 1700s.  We loved playing there until the night came and ghosts took a walk within our imaginations.  It was not so much about fear as we would ride our bikes down suicide hill.  You only had four feet to turn right or left before riding into the salt marsh, yet our fear of what might be taking over when it came to graveyards at night.

Stevie and I shared so much adventure we thought our friendship would last a lifetime, and we would grow old and have children that would have a whole new set of adventures, but Stevie’s story would be short and the story filled with what if’s and wondering about who he would have become.  A life lived in a few short years then my friend would become a cowboy riding into the sunset waving farewell.  I talked to my friend the night before he crossed over.  He was to have an operation.  He was so afraid, and his voice trembled with emotion.  The next day Stevie was gone like a dream you have and then you awaken to hope it was just a bad dream that would vanish; yet, as sleep drifted away the new day awakening you to the hard reality that he was gone.

Stevie was my first friend and I still wonder who he would have become; a question that can never be answered.  I can only imagine the things we could have done together, but when I turn to that chapter in our story it is an empty page.  I tried to live my life in honor of you with your kindness, laughter, and loyalty.  Even for that short time, I am a better person for having been your friend.

Point Of View

Your friends fill your life with many great joys and when they leave you behind you have a dark empty space that can never be filled.  Yet, the time you had with them touches your life forever.  You always long for the unwritten chapters, like a book left on a table never to be finished.  I still wonder who you might have been, and I cherish that I knew who you were.  You were my best friend and you always will be.

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Larry Tyler
Larry Tyler
Awaken the possibilities … then unleash them. After 55 years of successful retail management, I have returned to my passion of writing. I write Poetry, Storytelling, and Short Stories. As a child, I grew up on front porch storytelling. I would sit and listen to my Dad and his brothers tell these great stories that were captivating, and I always wanted to hear more. I wanted to experience the things they talked about. I started writing at a young age and reading everything I could get my hands on. At twelve years old I started a storytelling group and several of my friends became writers or poets. At 16 I hopped box cars and worked the tobacco fields, orange groves, picked cotton, and spent many nights around a campfire listing to life stories. Someone once asked me why I wrote. It consumes an amazing amount of time and I assure you it is not going to make me rich. I write so that my children can touch and feel my words telling of the ones that came before us and the stories they told me. These are the chronicles of our family and even though they come from my childhood memories and are deeply rooted in a child’s remembrance at least they may feel what it was like in the time before them and cherish the things the elders left behind. I am a Columnist & Featured Contributor, BIZCATALYST360 and I have The Writers Café, a group on LinkedIn that features Poets, Writers, Artists, Photographers, and Musicians . On Facebook I have two groups and one page; Dirt Road Storytelling, From Abandoned To Rescue Dogs And Cats, and About Life, Love And Living. As writers, it is true that we honestly do not know what we hold within us until we unleash it. When our words inspire others only then will inspiration return to the writer. I will spend my twilight years in search of the next story, the next poem, and the next image. I will take the time to enjoy my Wife, our Dogs, and Cats, and our amazing new home and I will always find the time to walk down a dirt road I truly hope is that I never have to read another book on Leadership, be on a conference call or see another plan o gram as these were the tool for what I did in life and not about who I am.

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