I Am Grieving the Loss of a Friendship
I GOT THE CALL TODAY. Lately, it seems like any call means bad news. This was no different. It was the son of a man I used to worked closely with. So closely that we knew each other intimately. He was a judge.
His son called to inform me that the judge had passed away. The judge was the most logical, idiocentric, egoless and smartest person I have ever met. He had his blind spots, but I loved the guy. I continued to visit him after he retired. He didn't get many visitors, and was always enthusiastic and animated when we visited.
He probably was the greatest influence on my political and social perspectives. His logic was simply compelling. And his sense of social equality and justice brilliant.
A couple of years ago he had a stroke. I visited him a while afterward but he wasn't really there any longer. So I stopped visiting. It was too painful to see his razor sharp intellect and passion for political debate absent. Those traits were what defined him to me. This seems to fit a pattern that is developing. I get "the call" about someone close to me who has just died, but really the friend had checked out long ago.
I am starting to get used to answering the phone and hearing the words, "I have some bad news." And then my heart sinks and I am numbed from the shock. The numbness is now familiar territory. I don't need a map of grief any longer. I've visited it too frequently. But I know I'll be back there again, sooner rather than later. And I reflect on the fact that in what will seem like the blink of an eye, some loved one will be calling those few who are near and dear to me to tell them, "I've got some bad news."
His son called to inform me that the judge had passed away. The judge was the most logical, idiocentric, egoless and smartest person I have ever met. He had his blind spots, but I loved the guy. I continued to visit him after he retired. He didn't get many visitors, and was always enthusiastic and animated when we visited.
He probably was the greatest influence on my political and social perspectives. His logic was simply compelling. And his sense of social equality and justice brilliant.
A couple of years ago he had a stroke. I visited him a while afterward but he wasn't really there any longer. So I stopped visiting. It was too painful to see his razor sharp intellect and passion for political debate absent. Those traits were what defined him to me. This seems to fit a pattern that is developing. I get "the call" about someone close to me who has just died, but really the friend had checked out long ago.
I am starting to get used to answering the phone and hearing the words, "I have some bad news." And then my heart sinks and I am numbed from the shock. The numbness is now familiar territory. I don't need a map of grief any longer. I've visited it too frequently. But I know I'll be back there again, sooner rather than later. And I reflect on the fact that in what will seem like the blink of an eye, some loved one will be calling those few who are near and dear to me to tell them, "I've got some bad news."
