Three days ago I wrote about the death of a very old friend. I want to thank all of you for your kind words, both the ones here and the ones sent privately. I really appreciate it, especially since this was such a complicated situation for me. Those of you who’ve been close with addicts know how complex the emotions are that are involved.
Yesterday, I learned of the death of another old friend. This is such a different thing. He and I go back 20 years, and he was in his late 80’s. He was in my writing group — he was supposed to come over here tonight for a meeting. My alcoholic friend had given up on life long before she died; this guy always had three or four projects going, friends to meet for lunch and dinner — and a new romantic crush every couple of months. He was studying screenwriting lately, had an idea for a movie he thought would be hilarious. Don’t get me wrong; this was no saint, nor an adorable old fellow. He was exasperating, a drama queen, vain and opinionated. But he LIVED, up until the moment he died.
Me, I’m a little stunned right now. At least I have adolescent squirrels in the backyard. I’ll tell you about them soon.