My Friend

A good friend of mine passed away this week.  He was 46 years old.  We met about six years ago and became fast friends.  I didn't realize it at the time we met, but he was part of a pack of friends that I was also friends with.

Our pack lost another friend last year to cancer.  She was also 46.

When we heard of the news about the most recent death, we all met up in a restaurant and told some stories.  We made some toasts, we shared pictures, we cried a little.

It's never a good time to lose a good friend.

I turned 46 years old in March of this year.  It was one of the more difficult birthdays for me.  Maybe it was because I was closer to 50 years old than 40 years old; closer to 60 years old than 30 years old; closer to old age and death and all that.

My brother died at 38 years old.  He was closer to 30 years old than 50 years old.

The number doesn't matter.  It simply doesn't matter.

The day I heard the news about my friend, I was talking with a co-worker, asked her what she did over the Labor Day Weekend, and she said, "Oh, I went to a funeral for my 50 year old cousin."

"I'm sorry, how did she die?"

"Honestly, she drank herself to death."

My eyes teared up, so did hers.

"It's so sad to me how many lonely people there are."  I said, and she agreed.

I haven't had much loneliness in my life since meeting LOML, and solidifying a good relationship with my kids, but I remember the days.  It's a bit easier when the loneliness is at bay.  But I do spend a lot of time alone.  I spent a lot of time traveling this week, alone in the car, driving and listening to music.

I cried for my friend.  I cried for the pack.

Sadness doesn't stay away.  It can't, because life is filled with love.  And when someone dies, their absence magnifies the love, and it magnifies the loss.

I try to spend my days feeling grateful.  Grateful for the friends I have and the friends I've lost; grateful for the times I've cried and the times I've laughed.

The other night, I cried.  As I cried, I felt the pain of sadness, but as I cried I remembered our times together and I smiled. I cried with happiness for having had the time I had with him, and her, and my brother.  I cried with sadness, I cried with joy, I cried with sadness and I cried with joy.

It's life.  The ride has ups, it has downs.

I'm down this week, but no one who has loved me and died before me would want that.  I wouldn't want that for any of my loved ones.  Never.

My sadness is not a sign of weakness or a badge of loneliness --- it is a testament to the joy that my loved ones brought me, so I say thank them.

It's all I can do.