Odd kind of day.
Someone very close to me died this morning. I last saw her about a week ago. It’s common in these kinds of narrative to say she lost her battle with cancer, but somehow that doesn’t match what happened.
During a particularly difficult time of my life this lady was there for me, part of an army of friends who got me through it. I’ll definitely miss her (She still has the spare key to my car, come to think of it).
The important thing is she was at peace, she enjoyed where she spent her last days and she died talking to her son (with whom she had been estranged until recently).
She wasn’t very old, but I’m reminded of what Neil Gaiman wrote about the length of life in the Sandman collection Brief Lives:
Like everyone, she got a lifetime. I’m inclined to think that she is at the end of this life with it’s suffering.
I pour spirits onto the ground for her.
O’doju ala (we will meet in dreams).