The story of Doris

Doris was a friend of my mothers.

She was my age, actually a little older.

She used to work for a company with my uncle and my brother. It was a low morale place, and my brother left for other work. Eventually, my uncle left too, and started his own business with two friends.

Doris drove up to his new job one day, and said she had just left the old company, and thought my uncle would need a secretary. She offered to work for no money until the new start up could afford her.

So, she did. She became my uncle's secretary.

My mother and my uncle were close, and my mother got to know Doris. They became friends.

Then, my uncle got cancer, and Doris and my mother became better friends, as both would mother my uncle. After a three year battle, my uncle died from cancer. In his memory, Doris and my mother started to hang out.

It was good for my mother.

She started to revere my uncle after he died, and Doris was right there with her. They both liked to drink, and both had a spontaneous, childlike approach to doing things in life.

Doris had a husband, and two boys. The boys were from a former marriage, and she had had them when she herself was only 17 and 20.

My mother could relate. She had her two boys at the same age.

They started to hang out all the time, and Doris' husband started to join, with my father coming out too.

They were a couple's couple friends.

I always found it strange that my folks were good friends with people who were my age. Actually, Doris was two years older than me, and her husband another two older.

I would fantasize about what it was they would talk about.

My sister and brother, who still live where we grew up, got to know Doris and her husband at events. My brother had known her from the old job. Everybody liked her, and said her friendship with my mother was a good thing.

My folks don't really hang out together a lot. My father likes to be indoors on his computer, and my mother likes to drink and go do silly activities.

Doris was the same. She liked to go do silly things, get bombed, and come home to her husband who liked to stay indoors. The women had the same problems, and same history, and the same many things.

Last year, when I told my folks I was getting divorced, they were shocked. They couldn't understand. Then, a week later, Doris and her husband decided to also divorce.

My mother said it helped her with my divorce watching Doris go through it too. Doris and her husband were doing it amicably, like us, and just felt like they wanted different things from life.

My mother was still friends with both, and Doris' ex would sometimes come around the house, but after that, Doris and my mother started hanging out all the time.

My mother introduced her to her other friends, and Doris was now part of the group.

Doris would talk about her boys, both of whom were in their early twenties. The oldest was in trouble, in and out of jail, the youngest was a sweetheart who doted on his now single mother.

Then, two weeks ago, when my sister found out she was pregnant, after a year of trying and much worry, my mother tried to call Doris to tell her the good news. She couldn't get through.

A friend of both of theirs drove by Doris' house and saw several police cars. She called my mother and said that something bad must have happened.

My mother called Doris' ex.

That Saturday night, Doris' older, troubled son had gone out partying. He got real high on drugs, and when he came home, he tried to break into his brother's room to get more money. Doris woke up, and came out to stop him.

He pushed her hard, and she fell down the stairs and hit her head, knocking her unconscious.

The son then went into the kitchen and grabbed a butcher knife and stabbed his mother, Doris, to death.

He got the money, and got more drugs, and then called a hooker. The hooker arrived, did the deed, and then noticed all the blood. She called her pimp, scared. The pimp called the cops.

By the time the cops got to the house, the hooker was also stabbed dead. She was 19.

They arrested the son. He had wrapped Doris in a sheet and put her on her bed.

He is now in jail.

Doris was 40.

Here's to Doris.

I only met you once, long before you and my mother were such good friends, and I am going to miss you. You were good for my family. I wish yours had been better to you.