Her Friends

This evening I fell into conversation with a stranger, a woman about my age, with kids in college, like me. We were just gabbing, about what, I can’t remember.

Suddenly, she said, “My husband died three weeks ago.”

I fell silent. She fell silent. My heart sank, deep. I tried to catch my breath. Tears filled her eyes, our eyes.

“How?” “Melanoma.”

She talked a moment about the disease, his battle, him. And then she spoke of all the people who carried her and her husband during his months’ long battle. She talked of neighbors, family, friends – she needs to write 200 thank-you notes but she hasn’t started; she’s overwhelmed.

Right now, she’s lost. She’s just kind of there, not giving, not taking, barely breathing. She said she doesn't have the strength to answer the phone. But her friends keep calling. She appreciates their persistence and hopes they keep calling, keep leaving messages.

Here’s to all her friends.  Goodness knows, they are suffering loss themselves. Yet they find the strength to give, and so generously.