My Friend

I looked at her peaceful face and wondered how she could be so calm.

How could the knowledge that she would soon die not force her into noisy wails and tears? Why did she not resent the loss of all those future years? There was not even time to make a bucket list, no time to visit friends or to hug family who lived too far away.

I asked, “How do you feel?”

“As if a great weight lifted from my mind, as if I am ready to leave behind the pain. My life had become one room, a bed, so many pills to swallow. What point was there is waiting? I would never be able to dance, to visit friends, to live as others. No, this is the best outcome for me now.”

“But I will miss you. I am not ready,” I cried.

“I am sorry for you. But I hope you will learn to be pleased for me. To accept this is my future, there is no other.”

I thought hard about her words. But I was only in the first stage of denial. Why had her doctors given up so easily?

I wanted to run down the corridor, to grab the doctor and insist he did more tests, tried a new drug, did a fifth operation. But she held me back with one word.

“No.”

Then she smiled.

“We must all face death. It is there for all of us. And I will greet him with gladness, only sorrowing for your loss, not mine.”

And she held my hand, allowing me my grief.

I will always miss her. But I will remember the love.


Tricia Williams © 2025