My dear friend Allen died suddenly last week. He had carried in wood to fill the woodbox and had his gloves on and the leash on the dog to take her for a walk when he dropped dead to the floor. Of course with congestive heart failure and multiple aneurysms he was not supposed to be carrying logs or walking the dog, but that was Allen. He lived his life until the last minute. When I would scold him he always said with a smile, “Everybody’s got to die sometime.”
And now sometime has arrived. I knew it was coming but still I was not prepared. My heart is aching. I would like to write about him in the future but for now I’m so sad I can’t organize my thoughts beyond the big one: my dear, gentle, funny friend is gone.
A part of me still can’t believe it.