I lost my best friend last week — in fact, on Christmas Day. The worst blow to the gut I’ve felt in some time. Clearly, that’s not the joyful part.
Susan Passi Klaus and I became friends in our twenties, at the legendary Nashville TV station WSM-TV. It was a time we could do anything, say anything, and share everything.
I moved several times over the next 40 years, but Susan and I always stayed in touch. Even if our calls were months apart, we’d laugh until our stomachs cramped and then laugh again. No matter what Susan was going through, she had a humorous – slightly twisted – take on it. It’s what I treasure most.
A week ago, on December 19th at 5:04 p.m., I called her again in Nashville. We talked for 43 minutes. It would be the last time that we’d touch base, that I’d hear about her latest stupid adventure, and share a laugh. I treasure those 43 minutes, and let her know how much I loved her. She was gone 5 days later.
I’m not sure exactly what inspired me to call her, or what led her to actually pick up the phone, but it was perfect synchronicity. I am so grateful for that one last chance to have connected, not knowing it would be the last.
Susan probably touched thousands of lives with the shows she produced and humorous, self-deprecating weekly columns she wrote for several Nashville newspapers. But as my friend, she taught me that checking in — just for the hell of it — was the stuff that buoys the spirit, and stays a lifetime.
So the New Year’s resolution? Make the call. If you think of it — just do it. It will give you a sense of comfort and joy. We really don’t know what lies ahead — might as well send some love and make someone’s day…. or your own.
It’s an unseasonably warm, damp night in middle Tennessee as I walk to get the mail from the mailbox. As I sort out the junk mail it’s apparent that most all of it is junk mail. Walking towards the trash bin I feel for other unnecessary papers in my pockets to discard and I feel a sachet filled with bird seeds. It was handed to me this afternoon at a time of celebration for the life of Lonnie’s best friend and my good friend Susan Passi-Klaus. Perhaps it was the darkness or the loss I shared with so many others today of this precious, precocious, loving friend, that I found myself holding those bird seeds and feeling sad. Just like the mail, it seems like so much of life can be junk, just noise, and filler of our lives. What is truly precious are those we love and who love us. Like the seeds I had in my palm, the possibilities of where the seeds would grow, what birds they might feed, and how many more seeds they will produce is limitless. I carefully dispersed those seeds with Susan on my heart, along my driveway. Her life force will endure like those seeds and some with pretty wild stories much like Susan’s life stories. Lonnie, I thought of you, coming back to Tennessee to honor and celebrate your best friend and that perhaps this night might weigh heavy on you. May we all take your challenge to heart to reach out and make contact with those we love. Let us tell them, remind them, and reassure them what they mean to us. Lonnie, peace to you and your memories of Susan. Mary Elizabeth sure had a true friend in Susan. Be well.
Gilbert Lovell