Death is a part of life. We all know this, at least as an abstract idea. Most of us push the idea into the furthest corner of our minds until we are confronted by the reality. The uncertainty of what happens to us after we take our last breath can be overwhelming. We get to practice dealing with our own mortality by being faced with that of others’. Strangers on the news, family members, friends.

I came face to face with the reality of death last week, when a very close friend passed away. We went back far enough that I don’t remember life before him, and I considered him extended family. I found out and fell apart. The vague ache of death was there: he was so young, what a waste of life, etc. But at the forefront was the specific pain of losing him. The quirks, the expressions he made, the sound of his voice. The way he walked. How it felt to hug him. All of that, missing from my life suddenly. The never agains might be the hardest part.

I wish I could explain how to get through it. All I can say is how I got through it: falling apart, sobbing on my kitchen floor, writing him letter after letter, calling his voicemail one last time to leave him a message about how much I missed him and listening to a lot of Elliott Smith. It is such a personal experience, no one can or should tell you how to cope. But they will try…