Even though we were teenagers when we last saw each other, I was thinking of my old friend the other day.
We went to the same school for years. We were in the same class.
We lived a mile apart and visited each other often.
We are the same age. Our parents are from the same generation.
His father died in June.
Parents die. We all die. It shouldn’t have come as a shock.
But it did.
It means my friend and I are getting to the age where people around us die. And that is a stark realization.
Life in Perspective
I’m terribly sorry for Steve and his family. They will live on without their father, husband, brother, granddad, uncle.
And while my heart weeps, I’m torn between feeling worried about my own parents’ future and just letting it come when it comes. The rational me votes for the latter. Whatever happens happens. After all, I can’t change it.
But I’d be lying if I said worry hadn’t ever so fleetingly crossed my mind.