Goodbye

When Dixie was diagnosed with terminal cancer, I had just gotten to know her.  We shared lifelong stories.  Histories.  Her husband died of cancer five years before her second and final bout of the dreadful disease.  It is never easy to lose a friend.  Even a new one.

Dixie pulled away from all of us with her diagnosis.  Her spiritual sisters.  Often we would have a group phone call with her at her home nearby just to connect with her.  Always upbeat, even when she was dying she asked about us.  She kept up with us by phone until she no longer had a voice strong enough to speak.  Her funeral was private.  We all mourned in our individual ways. 

Just today, I learned someone I have known for years committed suicide.  They, too, received a terminal diagnosis.  This person did undergo surgery but when the surgeon said the cancer had spread and that his life was very short he made a decision.

Shortly after that, when he came home from the hospital, his wife had gone to the store. He got into his car, with his gun loaded and drove along the river.  He took his life instantly.  He didn't want anyone in his family to see the grisly details.  He even called the police letting them know what he was doing.  No family member or friend could be implicated.  He did the deed. He died alone.

Friends grieved uncontrollably because, like Dixie, they were not allowed to be with them during the final days.  For the community, there is a bonding being there for a dying friend.  A kinship words cannot express. 

For myself, I think people ought to make their own decisions about the end. Both of my friends lived the way they passed, on their own terms. As their friend, I just miss them.  Terribly.