A toast

My high school best friend, Vasheli, was 4’6″ tall.

In college, she decided one day she wanted to learn how to play the guitar. She purchased one, then gave that one away because it was too big for her and purchased a different one. Rather than take a course on learning guitar and get made fun of for playing her child sized pink one, she went to the local book store to get a beginner’s guide.

She perused the book shelves at the same time as a 6’6″ tall man who had just gotten out of the marines. He took a step back to grab something, and literally tripped over her. A round of apologies and some discussion about what beginning guitar book was best and that’s how she met the man who would become her husband, Freddy.

Freddy turned out to be a gaming nerd, so naturally she introduced him to us and he joined our table. He could be rambunctious, and in retrospect, he probably had ADHD. He had a tendency to physically act out his character’s actions when he got really into it. Aside from that, he was great to game with, and we just learned to duck.

We are playing at our then DM’s house, and Freddy is playing a fighter. Our DM had a mismatch of furniture, most of it from yard sales or stuff left by a curb. We had our rickety gaming table, and then behind that was a coffee table we occasionally used to hold food or drinks. The coffee table was positioned in front of the windows, opened during gaming time to let fresh air in.

We are getting into a really dramatic moment, and Freddy’s character is trying to rally some bystanders. He decides he’s going to act out his character giving a speech, and proceeds to jump onto the coffee table.

Freddy, as mentioned, is a big guy. Two legs on the coffee table promptly collapse, causing Freddy to tumble and fall. Through the open window. Of the second story apartment. Into hedges.

We all are sitting there in opened mouth shock, frozen in the moment, then we hear him yell ‘I’m okay’.

Miraculously, he was. The window screens were not. The curtains were not. And the hedges were not. But he was.

The next session, Vasheli came with. She gave the DM a check to cover the cost of replacing his screens and curtains. She then turned to stare at her husband until he meekly sat down in his usual chair. To our great amusement, she then whipped out a belt and used said belt to secure him to the chair. She also stayed and cooked us dinner.

Today is September 6th. Six years ago today, Freddy and Vasheli were killed by a drunk driver while on their way to pick up their kids from her mother’s house. I miss them.