Tuesday, December 18, 2007

The Support of a Good Friend

My friend April died a year ago on the 13th of December. Chili wrote a nice piece about that day on its anniversary. For some reason I remembered it as being the 18th. Perhaps her funeral was on the 18th, I didn't attend but it stuck in my mind and I'd like to think there was a reason.

I met April through Chili when we were all part of an informal women's group and we bonded here and there over different things. The lovely thing about a group like that is that with the right mixture of people you're virtually guaranteed whatever sort of support you need even as your needs change. April went through a lot of changes while that group was meeting and I hope she found the support she needed from us.

Last year at this time my desk was in a large room full of other desks with other people sitting at them. My phone rang in the middle of the morning and it was Chili. She said, "(unintelligible)l's dead." I was doing something else at the time and I asked her to hold on for a moment so I could get that out of the way before I came back and asked, "What did you say?" "April's dead." Well, that's what I thought she said. How could that possibly be? Oh, it could possibly be in the way that these things are always possible. One minute April was whizzing along to work after dropping her younger son off at school and the next minute (we hope it was the next minute, we're told it was and we have to believe) she was dead. Road, guard rail, impact, weather; none of the details are important, though they are something I am ravenous for. I wish I knew how quick it went and what she thought of and if she was able to have a moment of grace as she departed.

I'll never know but I can choose to believe that she did.

*Photo credit to Laertes under the terms of the Creative Commons license. Stella (back) and Oola (front).


  1. You are, indeed, remembering the day of her funeral.

    One of the only things that pangs me (it is too a verb) about missing April is that I'm not sure I WAS the support she needed. I was often harsh with her, and I told her things I know she didn't want to hear. I never did what I did out of anger or self-righteousness, but the fact remains that we'd grown apart by the time she died.

    That doesn't make me miss her any less, though.

  2. I hope she did too.