Don't go.

Losing one of my oldest friends. She’s in hospice. Of course, cancer.
Last year we talked on the phone for the first time in years. The “child” (exactly 40 years old) of one our already deceased friends had just died, in her sleep, from untreated high blood pressure. A kid we had diapered, carted around on our hips, taken to the lake to swim. Shared memories. Shared tears.

Now this friend is dying and I’m hundreds of miles away. I know we just banged out the screen door on our way to a concert. I know we’re all meeting later for pizza and beer… It wasn’t that long ago.

I don’t mind dying, for myself. But it’s killing me to say goodbye.

I’m sorry Becky. It hurts like hell to lose our loved ones. I hope her passing is peaceful and as pain free as possible.

I’m sorry. Life is a painful and often lonely journey.

I’m so sorry, Becky.

My grandmother outlived 7 or her 10 children, her husband and all her friends. I asked her once if bothered her and she said not as much as when it first all started. At a certain point the memories of loved ones past get reflected in the ones still around us; and that makes it all worth living through.

Here is a hope and prayer that you find the point where your memories are reflected soon.

Thank you all for understanding. We’ve been through many deaths before. About twenty years ago we lost six family members, one after another, in a five month period. I stopped putting my funeral clothes away. But when your friends have started dying it’s more immediate (to me), less explainable, until you realize “Oh, okay. I guess it’s our turn now.”
And what am I doing today? Finishing the Christmas shopping and putting up the rest of the decorations. The things people do when life goes on, without them.