We hadn't talked for some months. With kids, work, and family, it can be hard sometimes trying to keep your head afloat let alone catch up with even our best of friends.
I could hear it in his voice. The sound was the kind you hear from your friend unless there is some kind of imminent, foreboding message to share.
So, I called him back immediately, then hung up the phone. I felt my heart sink overwhelmed with feelings that reminded me of my mother. She died more than two years ago.
The deep sense of loss I still feel since her passing can be deafening at times. The whole world stops with memories and flashes of lost emotions about things long past. Stone faced, I sat in my room alone as I heard the voices of my children in the other room. For a moment, I imagined that my mother once sat in my place listening to my voice when I was a child with my brother playing or arguing as she received news over the telephone.
There is a deep sense of responsibility that came over me. It feels precious and undoubtedly unwanted at the same time. But, is it responsibility for anything? No, it is fear. Fear of knowing what my mother knew when she got those unkind phone calls.
After a moment of indecision, I called my friend who informed me that another one of our friends from graduate school was gravely ill. Hospice care, specialists, and prayer were all made to order to help conquer death knocking at the door.
It did not matter not one bit that our friend had been sick as long as we had known him. It did not matter the least that we both knew a day like this might come. We knew. Maybe his long time illness prepared us. Maybe it stopped us from staying close and connected. Maybe talking to him sometimes reminded me of my mother too often. Sometimes, it was painful just to talk to him. It was easier just to send an email or e-card to say hello and wish him happy holidays.
He is my friend and he might die soon. Early death seems to bring me closer to dealing with the reality of my death. So morbid it seems and true. Upliftying messages of hope and conjuring up heavenly voices do not pacify my fears.
Then, my heart and spirit go back to my friend. My friend on the phone who called me to share the news. We caught up, talked about babies, life, work, and old times. It was so good.
When we ended our call, I decided to call my old friend who was ill. No luck, no one to pick up.
I was partly relieved and disappointed because I wanted to hear his voice but I am certain that I would have cried. Maybe we'll talk tomorrow when my courage returns.
Until then, good night Mom. I miss you and love you.
