eric from the 'hood

I don't know why the Jennifer Lopez tune flashed into my mind just now... but it feels right.
Eric Newton was one of the neighborhood boys that my brothers grew up with. We all grew up in a lower middle-class midtown suburb - at least, that's what I tell myself. After all, I still live in that area... and the economic status of the residents hasn't changed.
I really didn't know Eric until years later, after my return from the Navy. Even then, he was on the periphery of my social circle, only being seen at Bulldog-watching parties at my brother Smitty's house.
For the last few years, though, I've seen him at the pumpkin-carving parties at Robin and Harry's home. Those have been pretty happy times, sharing food and fun with children in our lives and other grown folks from our childhood days.
I've seen him at the Chevron in front of the section of woods where we each have a younger, alcoholic brother. Those have been tinged with sadness as we've watched our brothers continually choose liquor over family relations.
Two years ago, Eric became very ill. When the diagnosis was lung cancer, and he chose to keep smoking, we all thought the end would be soon. Instead, he lingered until last Wednesday night. I had known he was in the hospital, but had not gone to see him. On purpose, I had not visited him. I didn't want my last memory of him to be in a hospital gown, in a hospital bed.
I'd rather remember him joking around with my brothers, as they all did, back in the day.

David Eric Newton
1963 - 2017

I wish you the peace you have been missing these past years.