This week one of our dearest friends dropped dead. The phone call with the news stunned me. To compound matters, several other good friends have lost loved ones lately; one lost his Dad, one her sweet Mom-In-Law (in addition to having her job of 22 years eliminated the day before), and another lost her brother (who was my teacher). And yet another lost her nineteen year-old son.
I’ve been doing a dance with anguish and anger, and I don’t like it one bit. And yeah, I know that anger is a natural and maybe even necessary reaction to these circumstances, but I am exhausted from being angry.
I’m no stranger to loss. I lost my extraordinary Mother way too early, and my Dad long before he died. My husband’s parents are also both gone, and we went through his Dad’s death together.
So I’m not really sure where my anguish and my anger are coming from. Sure I realize that a long life is not a given, and I’m grateful that our good friend didn’t suffer. But still I alternate between being profoundly sad and profoundly pissed off.
Since I have a fairly substantial psych background, you’d think I’d be better equipped to cope.
Last night my husband said that he wished he could have just one more conversation with our good friend. I feel the same way. I think our friend knew how we felt about him, but I wish I could be damn sure.
Life is short. Friends are precious. I’m planning to do a better job of making sure my friends know just how much they mean to me.
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| In Memory of Harold Walker |
Marianne M. Smith
Writer At The Ranch
Making You Look Brilliant One Word At A Time
http://writerattheranch.com
wordsmith@writerattheranch.com
