Sorrow.
On Wednesday I flew to San Francisco for just a day. My oldest and dearest friend, Heather, was transferred from Seattle to San Fran. They ran tests on her to qualify her for a lung transplant. It was determined that she was too sick to get a transplant. The irony. She went from not sick enough to too sick in 10 days. I needed to see her. Sit with her two children who are the exact same age as my daughters. I was that age when my mom died. She was put on palliative care which basically means, pain meds to the hilt, anxiety medication to the limits and anti hallucinogens so she could pass peacefully and not trying to take oxygen in through what amounted to be about the size of a straw. The hospital paid for hotels and expenses for those of us who went to say goodbye. She passed not long after I saw her. She wasn’t awake. We brushed her hair. She rocked white hair too. Long and curly. Her bright green eyes closed as if she were sleeping peacefully. She was beautifu...