A very good friend suffered heart failure in September of last year. She was in a medically induced coma for two weeks and then her husband (also one of my closest friends) decided to let her go.
What was tough was that I couldn’t escape the situation even at work because my boss (also a close friend and a part of the circle of friends she was a part of) was suffering too.
I found myself diving into work and telling my boss that I wanted to just focus on supporting our friend’s husband.
Finally the day of the “funeral” (as much as it could be during Covid) arrived and I ran the shop as everyone else supported our friend and said their goodbyes.
I closed the shop and drove to their house where they were having a socially distant “gathering” in her honor. I parked on the street out back and I couldn’t get out of the car.
I tried 3 times (in between two drives around the block) to walk to our group of friends and I just couldn’t do it. Couldn’t be there knowing she (Leslie) wasn’t there. I drove home and went to bed and grieved deeply and loudly then dreamed about her.
My husband texted me from the gathering as he and the closest of our friends were cleaning up and I told him what happened. How I just couldn’t walk in there.
I see her husband Joe all the time. He is one of my dearest friends and a few weeks ago I joined my friends at their house for the first time since her passing. Others had been there since but it was my first time, yet the joy and love I’ve always felt in their home with my wonderful friends was there like always.
I still can’t believe she’s gone. I see every day the gifts she has given me over the years. Right now, an amethyst she gave me sits next to my bed. In the morning, I’ll pour water into my morning beverage with an antique martini pitcher she bought me one Christmas.
I live every day with the things she gave me, and I don’t think I’ll ever forget her and the place she has in our close-knit group of friends.
