I have been corresponding with the widow of my recently departed friend.  It has been a small but tangible comfort to both of us.   I mentioned to a friend the role she seems to have played in reorganizing his friendships after they got married, helping to root out his long-time best friend and old friends like me.  I literally saw the man five or six times since his wedding close to 30 years ago.   It was not that I didn’t get along with the wife, I did, I remember her as gracious and hospitable the two times I visited them at home not long after their marriage.   That said, it seemed clear that she had other plans for his social life than getting to know and welcome his old friends.   This is not uncommon in married life, sadly enough.  My friend wrote back “she sounds like a real bitch.”  I wrote back “not anymore, if she ever was.”      

Shall I be angry, and sad, and lament all the music unplayed, the laughs unlaughed, the help I might have been able to give them during his long, terrible death?   Pointless, all of it.  There is plenty to be sad, angry and full of lamentation about, but how does it help anyone?   You know what helps?  Giving and taking comfort now.  It is all that remains to us that is useful and good after a rare disease mercilessly rips someone we love out of our lives.