Performer: U2
Songwriters: Bono, The
Edge, Adam Clayton, Larry Mullen Jr.
Original
Release:
Pop
Year: 1997
Definitive
Version:
Popmart: Live from Mexico City, 1998.
I
wasn’t a huge fan of Pop when it arrived. Staring at the Sun was interesting,
but nothing else jumped out at me, as I told Debbie—who hadn’t heard any of the
album before the concert—before we saw them at Ohio Stadium in 1997. Then they
went into this song, and I said, “Oh yeah. I forgot about this one. This is a
good song.”
At
the end of the concert, Scott motioned for Debbie and me to come down to where he
was with Shani on the field. It turns out Erin, Beth’s sister, was about two
rows behind where he and Shani sat. We sat close to her at Genesis five years
earlier, so maybe there was something about Horseshoe shows.
Anyway,
after Beth and I broke up a decade before, I maintained contact with her
family, mostly her mother. It was sporadic until Beth’s dad died suddenly in
January 1994. After I moved back to Columbus later that year, it became more
regular.
Beth’s
mom, Mrs. Mac, still worked at the same dry-cleaning business that she had
while Beth and I dated. It was fairly close to where Mom lived, so it was easy
to swing by and say hi. I’d go and visit Mrs. Mac and see how she was doing
every so often. It was regular but it wasn’t all that frequent.
One
time Erin was there. I hadn’t seen her in many years, and she looked a lot
different, more like her sister, because she’d let her hair grow long. It
always had been short while Beth and I dated, and she looked good that way. By
the time of the U2 concert, it was short again.
It
had been several years since I’d seen Erin. Even though we all were with dates,
it wasn’t awkward. Debbie certainly knew about Beth. In fact, she met her long
before Debbie and I became an item. But the U2 concert was the last time I saw
Erin.
Not
long after that show, I stopped seeing Mrs. Mac, too. When I visited, I always
kept her up to speed on how I was doing with my job and now my new house, and
she did the same, including Beth and her grandson, whom she loved dearly (as
most grandparents do). One day, I took Debbie to meet Mrs. Mac.
This
was important to me, because in many ways, Mrs. Mac was a surrogate mother to
me as Mom withdrew more into her alcoholism. The meeting with Debbie was fine,
but soon after, Mrs. Mac stopped maintaining contact.
She
first sold the home that she and her husband raised Beth and Erin. Then she
left the dry cleaners, so I didn’t have a natural (and neutral) place to visit.
I sent Mrs. Mac a Christmas card for a few years, but I never heard back, and
eventually I stopped. I haven’t heard from her now in almost as long as I knew
her.
I
always assumed that the contact stopped because Mrs. Mac met Debbie. After she saw
I was with being taken care of, she decided it was time to cut ties and move
on. But now I wonder whether she enjoyed seeing me at all. It’s entirely
possible, perhaps even likely, that my visits—during which she never made me
feel anything less than welcome—were unwanted.
That
would be too bad if that were true. Whatever happened between me and Beth, I
never had bad feelings for anyone in Beth’s family. Forgive me if I’ve said
this already, but they welcomed me at a time when I needed it, and I’ll never
forget that nor stop appreciating it.
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