I found out on Easter Day that my friend, who is just a few days older than me, died last Wednesday. I have talked about her in the present tense several times and corrected myself, and likewise forgotten to correct myself, so I’m leaving that first sentence. She and her husband have two under-fives. She had stomach cancer, picked up when the younger one was 6 months old – she thought the exhaustion was just from being a new mother again. The older one started school in September. This is just wrong, beyond wrong.
There is a wake tonight and I am nearby, but not sure whether to go – the funeral is tomorrow, we had a long journey today and have a long one late tomorrow after what will no doubt be an emotionally harrowing afternoon. She is a friend from my old church, and was a large part of making me feel extremely welcome and making the place into a very tightly-knit community. There were only a few people that I got very close to, though, and she was one of them. She had a fairly late miscarriage before the first of their children, and was very comforting to me after my first miscarriage. And she was generally lovely, artistic, warm, welcoming, just a wonderful person. Even if she hadn’t been wonderful, this is just wrong, I tell you. Wrong, wrong, wrong.