Another friend passes . . .
My husband and I received very sad news over the week end about the passing of another good friend. Tom was in long-term recovery. In fact, he had just celebrated 32 years of sobriety. I last saw him a few weeks ago at our party for Joe’s 70th birthday. Joe had seen him just 2 days before he apparently died. No one really knows the details because Tom lived alone. He had not shown up at an AA meeting he regularly attended and a friend called to see if he was okay. Getting no answer, the friend did what we often do. He drove over to Tom’s house. With the assistance of a policeman, they forced their way in and found him.
Just a few weeks previously Tom had had a stroke, not one that completely incapacitated him but it had required a lengthy stay at a nursing home and continuing speech therapy. A couple small TIA’s had followed but we did all think his progress was steady. Perhaps we were mistaken.
The struggle for those of us who remain is varied, of course, but for most of us it’s three-fold: first and foremost, filling the emptiness in our hearts with sweet memories of the times we shared with Tom; second, making sure our own house is in order, ie.; are we harboring resentments that could be alleviated by amends, do we have debts that need to be paid, or necessary good-byes that need to be said. And third, is our will in order? In other words, are we saving our survivors the angst of trying to sort out that which we are leaving behind?
As I sit here writing this, I’m relieved to say I am prepared as far as the personal and business aspects of my life are concerned. And thankfully, I feel no fear about death. Tonight, at least. I expect it to be an exciting adventure, one that’s beyond my capacity to imagine, actually. One I anticipate with a modicum of joy, in fact.
Tonight we were with friends, and we spoke about Tom. A common theme was to wonder what “the other side” was really like. Do we acquire all the knowledge that had escaped our knowing “on this side?” And was Tom “aware” in his own way of our queries about his journey, the same one we all will make one day. I’m thinking yes. But does it matter? Not really.
I simply know that I am living a good life now, one that I hope is benefitting others too. Additionally, I hope that when I join Tom, friends will choose to fill their hearts with fond memories of our times together. We are here for such a short time. Living these years well, as did Tom, is a prayer that remains on my lips.
Are you satisfied with how you are living? Now? It’s not too late to make a correction.
