When I grew up....

My dad lost his best friend/neighbor, when he was was 26?  27?  Both men were young.  Black suit men.  That much I knew.  Also, that this best family friend died from a disease.

His daughter used to babysit my brother and me.  She was about 12-14 and my brother and I were around 6.  I'd seen the Super 8 films enough times, I can still remember my parents narrating the scenes behind us, from the couch.

Adding names or places to the often various blurry segments. Birthday parties, Christmases and the occasional extended-vacation-visits from relatives or close friends.  It was common back then, for us.

Everyday life.

And on a few occasions, my dad would film our babysitter (eg my parents were coming home from a long tip) filming their house from their cab of the babysitter, as she emerged running into the frame.  And sometimes, only a few, her father would burst into frame, too.

Looking like Don Draper. Holding a dark brown bottle.  That was my dad's good friend. I'll call him "Bill".  Bill was the one that died young from a disease I couldn't even pronounce.  Leukemia. 

In any case, I thought of Bill and my dad as I drove to an empty home from the hospital today.  Why?  Well, anytime his name would come up when I was a kid, my dad or mom would  frequently say " God, how Bill tried to fight it" or "That was the worse experience," one would would say.  

"Why mom (or dad)?" My bother or I would ask.  

"Because he didn't want to die," our mom explained.  Sensing our confusion, she would continue "Yes, some people honey don't mind dying.  It's usually because they are very old and have had a long, good life.  But our friend did not.  He was too young.  He loved living here.  With his family, wife and daughter, his friends, just everything.  He just didn't want to go".

That is exactly how Lily felt just a week ago.

And visiting her today.  In a hospital.  

Almost a hundred percent unconscious.   

I held her hand for hours today.

One of the hospice nurses told me after I pressed for an honest answer,"She probably won't make it through the weekend," she plainly said.

Memorial Day.

Just a few weeks ago, Lily excited jumped up and down after a doctor visit, "I'm gonna see Christmas! I'm gonna see Halloween!"

And then as things got worse within a few days, Lily would say, "I don't want to die, honey.  I don't want to die."

Ooooohh...my heart breaks!

She repeated that to me on this very same couch that I am typing this.

"I don't want to die, honey.  I really don't want to die," she would cry.

At this moment, I do not know how to move on.