In the face of mortality, my closest friend now wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. Her father is dying, they told her on the phone today. Maybe two more days, maybe one. She talks to her family as if he were already gone. She'll talk to him on the phone today knowing it will be there last conversation. What should her final words be? And his?
My hurt is burning with sorrow for her. And all I can do is hold her hand and let her cry. I can drive her to the airport and make her dinner. But I can not fill in that emptiness. Only time can do that. Maybe.
My dear friend, I wish I could take your pain and make it mine.
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