hail and farewell

Yesterday morning, at about 4 a.m., I woke up, and as I sat wondering whether to go make myself a cup of hot milk to get back to sleep, the hospital called to tell me that my friend had passed away. My fear was that she would have to spend an indeterminate amount of time half-conscious in a place she hated, so one week unconscious after being able to live in her own place for an extra year was definitely a blessing.

I spent much of yesterday with her sisters, dealing with arrangements, since at this point the living needed my help more than the dead. In the next few weeks we’ll have to deal with the contents of her apartment. How do you dispose of a life? What do you do with things whose only value was in memory? I still have boxes in my basement that haven’t been unpacked since I cleared out my mother’s place 20 years ago. Some of the Native American tribes pile up the belongings and hold a dance, where everyone comes and selects keepsakes. Others burn everything a man owned and his house as well. Either would be better than a trash bin.

But life goes on, and the soul goes on, hopefully in a more enlightened state.