I don’t remember when Ralph and I first met, or even how. It must have been in high school, so, around 1977 or so. His family lived in the next development over, in the very suburban community in which I grew up.
We become best friends, even though he was two years older than me, and we were inseparable. I mean, really. Even once he went off to college, we stayed close and as soon as I was out of high school, once I got back from my unsuccessful first year at college (all the way out at Arizona State University), we still remained close.
I always wanted to be like Ralph. He was accomplished. He was successful in many things, even at an early age. Ralph’s big thing was that he was a pipe organist, at a very young age, and was performing all over the area. I can remember going into New York City once, with his parents, to see him perform someplace – I don’t think I was even 16 at the time.
Ralph was the first person to let me drive a car. We were in the parking lot of the Friendly’s in Florham Park and the lot was empty, so he let me drive (after me badgering him, no doubt). A cop came by as this was going on and Ralph managed to talk our way out of trouble. Another episode that involved a car and a Friendly’s happened in Madison, I think. It was after one of the shows (high school theater) and a whole bunch of us were going out to get ice cream. We were packed into his car and as we pulled into the parking lot I notice that Ralph didn’t see this tree surrounded by railroad ties. He was talking to others and I called out from the back “Ralph. Ralph! RALPH!”, and as soon as he said “WHAT?” we hit the tree (at about 5 miles an hour). Nobody was hurt, no damage to the car, but the tree was tilted. I remember seeing that tilted tree for years and thinking of that night each time.
Ralph was the first person to take me out to a bar, and a nightclub., before I was old enough to do either. At the time, the drinking age in New Jersey was 18, so it wasn’t as much of a stretch.
I can remember any number of trips up to Ithaca to see Ralph in college, he went to IC. I can remember thinking how cold and snowy it was and how I would hate living in that type of climate. Years later I would move to Rochester, NY, and drive through Ithaca each time I came home. I even dated someone in Ithaca for a short time, and remembered my dear friend each time I made the trip.
At some point Ralph and I drifted apart. I moved away from our hometown, and then eventually my parents did as well. The last time I talked to Ralph my parents hadn’t moved yet. I was driving home from their house and I passed the Ringstad’s. Ralph was outside working on something and I stopped to say hello. Our conversation was stilted and a little uncomfortable. I couldn’t put my finger on why. I thought I’d done something that upset him or hurt him, although I had no idea what. I tried to reach him several times after that, even through some mutual friends, but we were never able to reconnect.
Ralph was the friend who brought me from my teen childhoodness to my early adult years. He is an indelible mark on my life and I will never forget, and will never want to. I’m in such shock, although I know this is something most of us go through at some point.
This comes, for me, on the heels of losing my father almost two years ago. These two staples of my very early life, now gone, is making me feel my own mortality and reminding me that life is too short and that we each need to make the very best of what we have now, and enjoy that. I need to learn to better tap into the love and joy of life that attracts me to the Brasilian culture so much. The thing I love about Brasil is that, no matter how much they have or not, there is a simple joy of loving what you have now, and enjoying that now.
I feel like I need to keep talking about this, but I hardly know what to say. So I figured I would write Ralph a note, at this point, a prayer.
Dear Ralph,
You were the brother I never had and always wanted. You were the one person who knew all my secrets, and I knew yours. You were my role model. You were my guide. You were the one person I knew I could turn to when I needed someone to talk to, or to bitch at, and I knew you would always know what to say. You meant more to me that I can even express in words. I always wanted to be like you. I would like nothing more that to hear you play the theme from Star Trek (The Next Generation) or the from 20th Century Fox music just one more time. I love you and will miss you very much, Thank you for being such an important part of who I am today.