My mom's good friend, Stan, died on Monday. She was able to spend time with him in the early afternoon of that day.
Stan and his wife, Eunice, were friends of my parents for years. We always visited when we went to Texas.
When Eunice died, my mom and dad included Stan on all their events and took care of him through his grief. He did the same for my mom when my dad died.
No, Stan was not a relative, nor was someone I saw every day or even every month for that matter; but he was a good man who fought to live. One day he wrote my mom a song and played it for her on the guitar.
She can't remember it now. I wish I had the song.
I don't understand life and death...how can we?
This is all I know...each day is incredibly important...what we do, who we see, whose life we influence and being with those we love. Time is short.
Farewell Stan, thank you for being friends with my family.