I’m still in a state of shock. The last time I was with him was on New Year’s Eve, and he took all sorts of goofy photos of me blowing those cheap plastic noise-makers with a sparkly cone hat on my head and a frisky smile on my face. He had a way of bringing out the deeper stuff in me, and the photos show the same – there’s a good one of me blowing a noise-maker through my nose. Ridiculous.
I smile as I write, but I’m sad at the thought that he’s gone now, forever. I can’t believe it. He wasn’t all that old, and it sounds like it was sudden – a co-worker found him at his desk.
I feel a deep sense of wanting to seize the present life we have left. I want to rush to the small town I was born in and live near my parents while they still have energy. I want to take my daughter camping and sailing and hiking. I want to show her the stars, and tell her the stories of the constellations. I feel a deep sense of urgency to get out of the city and seize what little life we have.
Who knows which one of the people dear to me will pass away next? It could even be me.