I Miss You, Keary Lea... - Democratic Underground

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Fri Jan-19-07 09:16 AM
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I Miss You, Keary Lea...

It was over 20 years ago. We met at McGreeveys on the dance floor. You were wearing a little black dress and a black beret and were so damn cute and you danced like a new wave angel. We danced together and we talked and we drank together that night, speaking the usual just-met questions and answers. There was an instant connection and we started dating immediately, and soon we became lovers. Your parents didn't approve of me as your boyfriend, but I really can't blame them. They were upper class and I was no prize back then. A long-haied grease monkey without a college education and no real plans. But you saw something I couldn't see in myself, and we grew closer. I remember dancing in your basement, sneaking into the guest room above your garage to spend the night with you, drinking at the Limelight downtown and you picking me up in your father's Mercedes convertible and how we laughed with the top down, driving down the Kennedy Expressway in a rainstorm. Going to see our favorites, Billy Idol and Cindy Lauper, and dressing the part. How you pushed me to consider going to school, how you believed in me.

But something odd happenned. We decided after a few months that we were better as friends than lovers and decided to be that to each other, and you became one of my best friends and my confidant. You were there for me thru the darkness that was my 20's, drug addiction, alcoholism, a short bad marriage, recovery. Thru it all you loved me and comforted me and listened to my hurt and pain and you were my friend when others couldn't remain so.

We lost touch for awhile as I moved out of state. I took your advice and went to college. And both our lives moved forward. We got together occasionally when I came into Chicago, and we talked on the phone every once in a while. You were so happy when I got remarried and you were so glad when I had my kids. We would catch up on the phone like no time had passed. You had a long-term boyfriend who treated you like a queen, and you were so excited about your new Volvo, last time I talked to you, and were looking forward to getting out of that neighborhood someday when you could afford to move.

and then one day I was reading the Chicago Tribune and saw your name. I went into shock. How could that be? Dead? Raped? Strangled in your bed? you were 36 years old, only a year younger than me. How could you be gone? I dropped the paper and could not speak. And then I was at your funeral service, more of a celebration of your life. After so many years, a haircut and a new life, your dad did not recognize me, but your mom knew me immediately and hugged me and comforted me, when it should have been the other way around. Our old friends from the clubs were there, and most of them were high or drunk. Sad. I left there and cried in my car most of the way home to Milwaukee.

I read recently that the animals who did this to you were spared the death penalty and were given life in prison without parole. Small consolation.

Time is a funny thing. I do not think of you as often as I used to, but when I do, I remember your smile and your friendship. I remember your laugh and your hope.

You would have been 45 this week. You should not be gone. I miss you, Keary, and I love you.

RL