I recently wrote a diary about a terminally ill friend who just raged such hatred, such racism, that I was shocked to the point I have not taken a call from him since. I am still not certain if it is the illness that made him go ballistic, or if he let his guard down and revealed his true self to me.
I just want to talk about the other terminally ill friend I have, and that you might have as well.
I noticed that as my husband was dying, people avoided eye contact. The folks driving by that once pulled up in the yard to drink beer and gossip drove on, looked the other way. My husband was the one who brought this absence of neighbors and friends to my attention.
So, 10 years later, my best friend got pancreatic cancer. I live near Houston, she lived in Austin. I called her every single day from the time she got her diagnosis until she died 7 months later. She would not always answer, but I called. Additionally, I emailed her. I just talked about my day, and focused on the things we had in common.
She seldom replied, but when she did, it was to thank me for not forgetting her. She said she read every email, that it was easier for her to handle questions about her condition with deletes instead of hang ups.
Now, I have a dear friend who is suffering from Lyme's Disease, and she is just so hurt, so infirm, she wants to just die.
So, I send her an email daily. She doesn't want calls. I email my news of the day. Or, I recite my nothingness day. I do not overwhelm her with details, and I tailor every email to her.
But I email her every single day, and she sends me emails that thank me for not forgetting her.
Both these ladies got their window into the real world through me.
Margaret, my lost best friend, has a widower who told me Margaret hung on every word of every email to her death.
Susan, my wonderful friend, does not have contact from anybody but me. I am the only one who gives a damn about her 10 year drift into hospice.
Nobody contacts her but me.
Send that email.
Ok?