Remembering a Good Friend

He was having urinary tract issues.  Blood, pain, typical of something important going on, and it had been going on.  A trip to the doctor resulted in x-rays.  The x-rays evidenced the bad news.   

 

The fact that he was old and had lived a good and full life did nothing to ease the sadness that my best friend was riddled with cancer.  The good news, if there can be good news, was that it had progressed to a point that he would not last much longer, he had days.  But, he was in pain and rapidly going downhill in the worst of ways.

 

He still had his smile, though.  The way he would wrinkle his nose and lift his upper lip to one side would still make us all laugh, even with all the I.V. tubes.

 

My father didn’t know him as well as I did, yet he took the time to go visit him in the hospital.  I think my friend enjoyed the walks they took, enjoyed the company.  Dad would hold the IV as they walked. 

 

We all tried to go every day.  It was sad to see how he slowly slipped away from us.  Toward the end he didn’t say much, but his smile would still come through the pain.  We could have taken him home, let him die with some dignity, but his pain and quality of life was more than we could bear, and taking him home would be cruel.  We had to let go, and I think he understood this as well.

 

The family was all present at the end.  We wanted to be.  We wanted to make sure he understood how loved he was, and that he was not alone.

 

He was cremated with little fanfare.  We had drinks and told of fond remembrances.  His ashes were brought home in a tasteful walnut box.  He is still in my memory and my heart.  I’ve had dreams where he has come to visit, to tell me that all is fine, that he is happy and healthy and content.

 

It is the way my family has always been, the way I was raised.  We don’t shuffle a loved one off to the hospital and leave them to die.  We make sure we are with them so they know how much we love them till the end.  We hold them and talk to them, and cry over them for quite some time before we can finally feel like it is time to leave.

 

They have always been part of our family, our pets.  My cats and dogs were the only siblings I had growing up, and I had many.  Each one was loved.

 

Boomer was special to my heart.  He was special to all who knew him.  He still is.

 

I can see him smile.