Passing

I’m stunned.  A close family friend has died.  Died but no-one says “dead” do they?  Passed Away.  She wasn’t old.  At least she wasn’t Dying Age.  Then my concept of age is growing more confused the older I am.  Things don’t fit into the neat categories of youth anymore.  She wasn’t old like Grandad.  That hurt because I would miss him, not because it wasn’t fair or that he’d been married for so long.  But she’s gone.  Three weeks since an emergency operation to remove an “infection,” released but a heart attack and readmission later and she’s gone.  Body overwhelmed by the stress of trying to cope.  It buckled and collapsed under the pressure.  But it’s her husband’s loss that I feel most acutely.  What happens now?  When the comforting fog of The Business has gone - what then?  God, what a crushing weight that gaping hole must be.  And, pathetically, I regret her not seeing Baby; not having had them visit more; not having popped in when we were passing nearby.  It’s so easy to be careless in life and how terrible to be reminded this way.  I had to wipe my tears from Baby’s face.