THEY'RE TELLING ME
"I'm afaid," says one,"I don't know how I'll live without her."
"I miss her so," says the other. "I don't want to live without her."
And I
Who remember her birth, who with her received our First Holy Communion, made our Confirmation, graduated from high school and college in the same class,walked down the aisle as each others' bridesmaids, who grieved with her as we buried our parents, who welcomed her as godmother to my first child and was privileged to share my children's love with her, and who sat with her as she learned what first was ominous and later devastating,
Now I,
who never envied her beauty and her incredible hair, or her intelligence, or perseverance, or her joy of life, or her adventurous spirit,
I feel the grief of others as a barrier;
I feel somehow deprived.
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