A dear friend passed away recently. That's an interesting expression. 'Passed Away'. She went away. She passed. Anyway, I suppose I should start getting used to it at my age. She was only 60, though. Cancer. She died at home with her family present. She had gone into a coma a few days before. She was one of the dearest people on earth. Her brother was a former lover. Benjamin, if you've read the story of our affair. He loved his sister dearly and they were very close. She had a gay son and Benjamin has been there for him through all his trials of coming out to his family, etc. He even hired him to work for him.
When someone passes I feel this incredible urge to connect with loved ones. When tragedies occur I feel the same urge; natural disasters, 9/11. I called Benjamin and we talked for a long time while he was roaming the aisles of Whole Foods in New York City. I called my sister and an old friend who knew Ben's sister too. Where does that need come from and why don't I feel compelled to connect more often. Why does it take the death of an old friend to make me realize I'm not an island?