Falling out of touch is a weird thing. You get to be such good, close friends with people, but they continually come into and flow out of your life. So often so, that sometimes you don't quite realize that they have drifted away until something brings the relationship, or lack thereof, to your attention.

I found out the other day that one of my closest friends from high school lost his father to Cancer this past weekend. I immediately tried to remember the last time I had seen Bryan, and then the last time I had seen his Dad. It took me a bit, but I came up with something like 6 years.

Now this is a guy who I used to see and talk to every day. I went on a few vacations with him and his family. I stayed at his house when my parents were out of town. We used to do all kinds of things together. We both left town for college, he to Penn State, and I to university of Maryland. We got together a few times here and there, but my sister probably saw him more than I did, when she began attending PSU.

The last time we got together was kind of happenstance. Kim and I were meeting another high school friend of mine at a bar where Bryan happened to show up. We made some small talk, but that was about it.

So then yesterday, I get the news from my Dad that Bryan's dad Bill has passed away. He read me the obituary, and that there was a service that was to be held tonight. I was unable to make the trip, and my Dad offered to make an appearance on my behalf.

As difficult I think it would have been for me to be there, not having much to say right off other than to offer my deepest condolences, I honestly can't imagine what was going through Magoo's mind while he was there. Bill was 56... younger than my Dad.

I remember when my Dad's father died. I was in eighth grade at the time, and it was my first funeral. That's the first time I can remember my Dad really being upset. I don't think I really understood it all at that point. After all, we only got to see my grandparents a few times a year. But looking back, I can definitely remember making a clear connection with the late Jim Sr. on our last visit.

Back in his day, he was the sheriff of New London County CT. At the time of this conversation, I had been intrigued by the history of the 1920s Prohibition gangsters. I had memorized the 1920-1930 This Fabulous Century section on Prohibition, and I got to ask him about what it was like to be a lawman in that time. He told me this wonderful story about having his armed men spread out, one a block ahead, one a block behind, and one across the street, whenever they had to move a safe like the big huge one I had seen in the Uncasville basement. To say that I was enthralled would be an understatement.

They say hindsight is 20/20. Times like these really make me hate that. I wish I had spent more time listening to Grandpa. I wish I had asked him more questions.

I have so many things that I'd love to talk about with people I can't talk to anymore.

It's also these times that make me glad that I've been able to reconnect with my Dad lately. We talk a lot more than we did when I was a kid. We don't always get into deep subjects, lately conversations have been dominated by how ridiculous my NCAA tournament picks have been. But we still shoot the breeze when we have time.

I like that.

I certainly don't mean to take anything away from any of the friendships that I have now, but every now and then I get to thinking about the people whom I've drifted away from. The internet is kind of helpful in that, and I'll be the first to admit I've spent plenty a lunch hour throwing names from the UHS class of '91 into Google to see what I can come up with. It's interesting to see who comes up right away, and who seems like they just don't want to be found. Of course not everyone I've been able to contact thinks this is such a clever way to go about finding them. Some think it's downright strange.

I want my son to know everything about everyone. I want him to appreciate all of the history and perspective that everyone who cares about him will be able to offer. I want so much for him - already.

I hope I can live up to my end of the bargain.