When I Was A Young Girl I Used To Drink Ale

This is Barney with his greyhound Tara. Tara was a racing dog. Barney rescued her after she could no longer race. Every day Barney and Tara would sit in the pub and drink beer (ale was his first choice but he'd settle for a Guinness if he didn't like the ale on tap.) Barney would buy a package of pork scratchings and toss them down to Tara as he sipped his beer and told his stories. Barney had the best stories. He told tales of the war and of his Italian girlfriend who he had to leave behind when he was shipped back to England. He would talk of his (British) sweetheart and the life they had and the children they raised before she was taken from him by a faulty vessel in her brain. Barney was a bit of a ladies' man. You could tell from the twinkle in his eye.

The pub was never very busy during the lunch hour so even though I was the only one working, I could sit and listen to Barney talk. Half of the time I had no idea what he was saying; his accent was thick and his voice was muffled and too much drink made his tongue thick. I didn't mind, though. I just loved to listen to him.

I left England five years ago and have only been back to visit once. I used to phone Barney every Sunday but it became too difficult; his hearing was failing and he would get frustrated and emotional and I couldn't stand to hear him upset. I resorted to sending him cards and letters, telling myself I would send something at least once a week. Once a week became once a month and then once a month shamefully became a few times a year.

When Shawn and I got married, I told Barney of our plan to honeymoon in England and Ireland. In every letter he sent me he would ask when I was coming back to England and every time I answered that I was coming back "soon." Our honeymoon got pushed back to 2009, then 2010, and then, far past the point of it being even remotely acceptable to call it a honeymoon, we decided on April 2011. We've been talking and planning for weeks now, trying to figure out a way to make our trip happen. I have been so excited to tell Barney that we weren't going to visit "soon" but had a definite date.

Tonight I found out that Barney was admitted to the hospital last week with kidney failure and passed away. He lived a good, long life and spent his later years lonely and in pain. I know that he is at peace now, or rather I tell myself that he is at peace now, but selfishly I feel sad. Barney was a dear, sweet man and my life was made better because it included him. I just wish that I had managed to make it back to England to see him one last time.