WHEN A FRIEND IS GONE

CUANDO UN AMIGO SE VA…

WHEN A FRIEND IS GONE…

Some twenty-seven years ago, I met this man in the middle of a business transaction. One of the many people I met over the years, and one of the many impossible transactions I tried to bring to life.

That first meeting was uneventful. Almost irrelevant, you might say. It took place in Zurich, Switzerland. We were both there chasing a possibility - a dream which, as dreams often do, can disappear in a wisp, a word, a moment of doubt, leaving little trace behind.

We had little opportunity to speak at the time, since we represented different interests. But the stage was set. It seemed we were cut from a similar cloth - more interested in solving the puzzle before us than many of the characters surrounding us.

A year later, we met again. This time in Paris, and now working toward the same objective.

We stayed in a small neighborhood hotel and finally had the chance to get to know each other. He spoke Portuguese, Spanish, and some French. I spoke Spanish, English, and even less French. Yet somehow, we communicated very well.

During those months in France - nearly six of them - there were many evenings when we pooled our limited resources and went to the corner coffee shop, Parisian style, to share a pizza and a bottle of wine. Those small meals became opportunities to exchange stories, histories, frustrations, and hopes. It was in those modest settings that the foundation of a lasting friendship quietly took shape.

Then, as often happens in life, our paths separated.

He remained in Europe, continuing to explore those unusual and often questionable business opportunities. I returned to the United States, discouraged by the constant failures and the many shady characters I encountered along the way.

A couple of years later, life dealt its own surprises. I was diagnosed with cancer. That began a long process of treatment and recovery, along with several major surgeries - not cancer-related - to replace hips that had become painfully dysfunctional.

During my recovery from the last surgery, a friend suggested I start a blog. Since I could not move around much at the time, it seemed like a reasonable way to keep my mind active. Around that same period, I also became more active on Facebook and created a personal page to reconnect with friends.

And then - lo and behold - one day, while reviewing comments, I noticed a message.

It was from my long-lost friend.

More than ten years had passed without any contact, yet our friendship resumed as if no time had gone by. He had settled in Spain, started a second-hand clothing business, and later sold it - not very successfully, it turned out - before returning to the old line of work we had once shared.

That business was one I had left behind due to my own health issues. But he was now facing it alone and asked for my help.

I did help him with documents, conversations, and anything that needed to be handled in English. At the same time, I made it clear that I was doing so only for the sake of friendship, not because I believed in the business itself.

For the next five years or so, we remained in frequent -almost constant- communication.

As his health slowly began to deteriorate, our conversations grew more personal. Over time, we became something closer than friends.

We became brothers.

During the last couple of years of his life, he moved in and out of hospitals as his body weakened and his outlook became increasingly grim. I sensed that the end of our relationship - at least on this physical plane - was slowly approaching.

Thankfully, his older daughter was able to come from Brazil and remain by his side. She became his constant companion and support.

Then one Saturday morning I received a very early video call.

It was his daughter.

She told me he wanted to speak with me.

One last time.

He was in the hospital. The doctors had already explained that there was little left to be done.

When the screen connected, I saw him lying in bed, covered to the neck. But after all those years, I immediately understood what I was seeing. He had very little strength left.

He looked at me and said quietly:

“Raf… I wanted to say goodbye.”

“My heart is just giving up. I am tired.”

“Thank you for your friendship. Know that I love you like a brother.”

“Until next time.”

There was not much I could say.

Except for the simplest, true farewell.

“Go in peace, brother. I love you.”

His life ended the following morning.

Peacefully.

Rest in peace, my dear friend Ronaldo.

May you now be free from suffering and pain.

September 9, 2021