Old Friends - Like Bookends

NYC 1977

My oldest and closest friend is dying. Deserted by all family, so called friends, and local stray dogs and cats. Do I sound bitter?  Yes, well... This attitude was common during the AIDS 80s, but this has nothing to do with AIDS. This fear of facing mortality is juvenile and hurtful.

We've been friends since 1964 when I was a tag-a-long guest at a party she threw for herself when she snagged a reporter's gig at the local paper in Willimantic, Connecticut. It was instant connection and remained so all these years, though we've moved around quite a bit, and didn't visit personally on a regular basis. We kept in touch through letters & phone calls, then with cassette tapes, and finally via e-mail. We were physically present during personal and family tribulations.  A great support system of two.

That connection has been strong and unlike any other in either of our lives. We have been the constant for one another. A solid foundation; a non-judgmental and supportive voice telling the truth even if it was painful to hear at times.  Not always immediately appreciated, but over time, ultimately the best rule to follow.

Independent almost to a fault, but giving, always giving. The best friend anyone could ever hope to have in a lifetime, now reduced to such a state.  The mind is fully functional, while the body is shutting down.  And she knows it, of course.  Horrible, just horrible.

This is a brilliant woman who speaks 5 languages, crossed the Atlantic on a research sailing ship from Boston to Spain, worked on assignment at Scrips in La Jolla with me as apprentice, wrote about Lobster culture in the north Atlantic for Oceans Magazine, and spent almost 2 years traveling the middle east alone.  She's a Jew, by the way.  Fearless!

She is in a sort of hospice situation (it's California, they create names for these centers) and receiving Palliative care.  She is scared out of her wits because no one will tell her what day it is, or even offer a newspaper.  She is a voracious reader.  When she called yesterday in near hysterics all she wanted to know was the day - month - year.  How sad is that? Thank God for her cell phone.

The worst part is that there. is. nothing. I. can. do.!

I feel helpless. I would gladly give up my so-called life for her.  No, I won't go there now, but it's the absolute truth.

I need to go to bed now. I hope sleep will come quickly.

And so it goes.
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