Found out a couple of days ago that a friend with cancer is officially on the "too far gone" list. The doctors give him weeks and he is refusing visitors. I am regretting not going to see him last summer when I first wanted to. I suppose I could give myself a break by saying it is across the country and I have a new-ish baby but come on. Life happens when you are busy doing other things. And evidently so does death. Harsh? Yeah, feeling a little harsh over this. And really this is the first person I will have known, a friend, my age to die. This is weird. This is hard. I wanted him to meet my little girl. I wanted to look him in the eye and know that, against the odds, he had beaten cancer and was going to go on being a ballsy, sarcastic, brazen, booze swilling, razor witted scoundrel that is irresistible to all who come into range. I wanted him to spit in the eye of death. And now I can't even say good bye. Or hello for that matter.
Bruce, I'm sorry I made excuses. You have been in my thoughts all along. Save a seat for me.