Sad lessons about life


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Posted by Thinker on September 09, 2010 at 10:50:57

I'm a little depressed right now. Just had another one of life's hard lessons about appreciating the living, about living in the now and not later, about forgiveness and how short, fragile and precious life is.

Lately I've been reclusive, a bit of a hermit of sorts, not wanting to be around people, not appreciating the good network of friends I have. People all around me seem to be dying, dropping like flies.

Last Saturday, I reluctantantly attended a party in honor of a friend, K., with whom I'd had one of those silent falling-outs. I had stopped having antyhing to do with K. because of what I perceived to be insincerity on her part, and her failure to resolve some issues despite my writing her about them. At the Party, K. came over, and apologized for not being in touch and casually explained it was due to her illness and her getting tunnel-visioned, turned inward in a struggle for survival. Sick? It was the first I'd heard about it. I learned that she had had breast cancer and had been in chemo treatments for a long time. She showed me a picture of her from 2008, bald and looking very poorly. I was shocked. What was more shocking, was that none of our mutual friends had even mentioned that she was battling cancer. K. thought that I, like so many others of her "friends," had cut her off because I couldn't deal with her having cancer. Her husband had even left her because of it. I told her that I had no idea she was ill and would never abandon her just because she had cancer, that I was there for her. She began crying, telling me how she missed spending time with me. I didn't bother to bring up any of my issues with her. I let them go, because they were rendered petty and insignificant in light of what she had been going through. She probably hadn't replied to my emails because she was just focused on her own survival.

In the final hours of the party, another friend, T., reluctantly revealed that he had been having one of those silent fall-outs with me, because he'd thought I'd been ignoring him and slighting him--the very things I had accused K. of doing to me. It all turned out to be all a misunderstanding, and we patched things up. So I realized what it was like to be on the receiving end of a silent falling-out, and how petty these little grudges really are.

And now the real clincher:

Another friend of mine, L., was on her way to the party, but she never showed up.

When I last saw L. about a week before the party, I was feeling kind of upset that I had missed seeing another mutual friend, J., who has terminal cancer, before she checked into a hospice. J. had been saying good bye to everyone and I didn't get to see her because I was late. L. knew how I was feeling, looked at me and said, "I really miss you. I'm serious. We need to spend some time together." But all I could think of was how I'd missed seeing J. one last time.


On Sunday, the day after the party, I was taking a walk through the woods near my house, thinking about what a healing experience it had been the night before. I kept seeing images of L's loving, smiling face, remembering her tales about mushroom hunts, her tips about orchids. I kept thinking about the great vibes we shared, our little chats, her astute observations about human behavior, and that I should call her.

Then on Tuesday, day before yesterday, I learned that L. had actually been on the way to the party when she had collapsed with a stroke. She was hospitalized and her brain was hit with one blood clot after another until there was nothing the doctors could do to save her. She was in her 40s and seemed healthy as could be, so it came as a surprise to everyone.

So here was L., one week ago, alive and well, sitting right in front of me, asking that we spend some time together and reconnect, and all I could do was be absent, with my mind totally focused on J. who is dying. I had taken it for granted that L. and I could hook up later when I was feeling better, and next thing you know, it was L. who died--before J.

I would like to believe L. was there with me on Sunday, visiting me in the spirit. She probably wanted to let me know it was alright, that she understands. She knew I wouldn't have forgiven myself otherwise, for not being there for her as a friend when she had expressed that she needed me.



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