Hurting for a Friend

Today is the funeral for a very good friend's father.  I mentioned his car accident in an earlier blog.  Steve was in the ICU for 2 weeks.  That's quite a long time in the ICU and really hard for a family.

The incident brought back so many memories of going through a similar experience 17 years ago when my sister died.  It was around the holidays, like Steve.  It all began with a car accident also.  She was only in the ICU for a few days, but I saw similarities around the internal injuries.  I remember the four times the family could visit and how the days revolved around the ICU visitation schedule.  I remember not being able to focus on anything else no matter how hard I tried.  I remember shaking nonstop for days and constantly feeling cold... all due to the feeling that this might be the end of her life and how unbelievable and scary that felt.  She was 23 and Steve was 60.  They both were fun people, knew how to enjoy themselves, knew how to have fun, loved by many.  And, both taken before we were ready to say goodbye.

Steve's son is a good friend of mine.  Sometime the word "friend" just isn't a good enough word to describe some people.  You know those friends who are more like family?   I mean, he and his wife are the two people who came with us when my husband and I ran away to get married in St. Lucia nearly 10 years ago.  And, over the years we have grown closer and closer to them and their families.  Our families regularly do things together:  New Years Eve.  Halloween.  St. Patrick's Day.  Ah, how I will miss seeing Steve at the St. Patrick's Day parade... sitting in "his" chair and enjoying the show, maybe smoking a cigar.  Harrassing us for being in his way.

Also each year, our families go cut down a Christmas Tree together.  We always go the Saturday after Thanksgiving....which would be this coming Saturday.  This is one of our favorite things to do each year.  We've done this for a decade, before we had kids and their oldest were young.  Now, their oldest is 16.

We saw him last night at the visitation, the oldest son, and I realized how mature he's become and how we've watched him grow up.  Their three boys were holding their own at the service.  The two oldest with friends and interacting with all the family friends who felt compelled to deliver their condolensces.  The youngest one, who is 9, was exploring the place - reminding me of my grandfather's funeral when I was in my teens.  I have strong memories of my cousins and me exploring the funeral home.  Tears, then laughter all throughout the day.  Unable to really understand what was going on.

Today I hurt for my friend and his family.  His wife who mourns a man that, as she recently said, was more a father than an in-law.  His kids who grieve for a generous and witty grandfather.  And, a son who aches for his father.... and might not be entirely ready to say goodbye.