A Tribute to a Dear Grade School Friend
My first real boyfriend, besides the wonderful Kirk Bratrud in 5th grade, was Steve Friese in 6th. Although, I do believe that the entire female 6th grade class had a crush on Steve, I do count him as my first real 'boyfriend'. It may of lasted the whole of five minutes but I have very, very fond memories of what it felt liked to really like a boy.
I am a Labor Day baby and in the fall of our sixth grade year I was given my first Kodak Instamatic camera for my birthday. You know, the kind that had that silly four square light bulb dohicky on the top that served as the light source. But, even then I loved photography. Since Steve was my boyfriend we were out on the kick ball field behind Burroughs one afternoon during recess and I snapped a picture of him where I captured his spirit so completely that I saved that photograph all these years later as a way to fondly recall those wonderful days of youth. I keep telling myself I will run across the darn thing soon, but so far to no avail. I will find it though because I know I did not toss the darn thing. Anyway, it shows Steve in all his glory. In action, racing somewhere but giving the camera and me a great feisty look that spoke of his fun innerself and his powerful presence as a kind and loving soul who was at the least a fantastic football and hockey player.
We lived about one block away from each other and Steve and I actually met in 3rd grade. We then went all the way through to our first or second year of high school. I believe him telling me recently that it was at that time his father decided to become a pastor and he moved their family of mostly boys, if memory serves me, to Michigan. So, although I had lost track of him past about the 9th grade he was one I never forgot because he was unforgettable. Once you met Steve you fell in love instantly. The guys loved him because he was a real mans man and the girls loved him because he had the biggest bluest eyes you've ever seen and the best inner spirit radiated out from those eyes.
He had a fun and diverse work life raised three big strapping boys, remarried a woman he thought was incredible and was doing work currently that he truly enjoyed. We met again when three of us girls were planning our junior high school reunion from Susan B. Anthony in South Minneapolis. I did a search and found him fast. I called him and reintroduced myself as his girl friend in 6th grade. I was shocked to find out that I was only one of many, but still he was completely OVERJOYED with finding his childhood friends after a thirty year lull. In fact, he was so excited, that he asked if he could ride his Harley over to my house the day the girls and I were addressing envelops in my office. So, a few weeks later, up rides Steve on an enormous and somewhat deafening, rumbling Harley Davidson motorcycle. He pulls into my driveway and walks up to the front door. He doesn't knock he just comes in shouting his hellos from the doorway. The three of us girls are giddy with anticipation and go tearing down the stairs to see him. We intersect him at the door and there were great hugs all around. We escort him to my office and we begin to reminisce and to get current all at the same time. He tells us how much his family means to him, showing us pictures all the while. He talks of how much he thinks of his take-no-prisoners wife Kelli. He keeps telling me that the two of us HAVE to meet because we're just alike. Sadly, I never got around to having that dinner party this winter because I kept thinking I had plenty of time. Please. don't procrastinate this type of thing, as I have found out many times over --life can change on a dime.
Anyway, that day began a wonderful business relationship and friendship together that lasted up until the day he died last week from an apparent diabetic insulin overdose. Sadly, I was unable to attend his funeral or memorial because I lived so far away from him and the weather was flat out scary, but I will be doing a rosary in his honor. Kelli gave me the details of what happened and where she found him and how completely shocked she was and how shaky she is still. She had just lost her husband of 17 years (we both shared that same length of time being marriaged) so she was sick from the pain of loss. My prayers go to her and their family.
I can say without question that the greatest joy to come to him over these past many years was the reconnection of people he knew from childhood. And we were overjoyed to have reconnected with him again too. Although his body was ravaged by chronic pain and the toll that diabetes takes on ones body long term, to the end he was one of the kindest men I will ever know. His energy mirrors my husband's in many ways and I am glad they had met.
Mostly, however, I am destroyed by how quickly loss can come. I am amazed by its ability to puncture the bubble of everyday life, deflate it so quickly and then make it nearly unbearable. Kelli's loss came in an instant and so did the rest of ours. He will be forever remembered and forever missed. Kelli told me that Christmas time was his favorite time of the year. What a good time to die.
Rest peacefully, Stevie.
Your friend and childhood buddy, Robin
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