I learned today of the death of a friend.  The kind of friend who knows all about you, all the nasty bits, the things you’ve done wrong and the things you’ve done right.  Things your family and other friends don’t know and never will, it’s confidential she’d say. That friend.

The kind of friend who was once in the thick of it with you and then faded back into her life and you into yours all the while touching base on occasion and meeting to pickup where you left off. That friend.

The kind of friend that reminds you that people your age are dying faster than you’d like to admit, that makes you want to clean out your closets (both literally and figuratively) so you can curate what people find when it happens to you.  That friend.

The kind of friend who cared so deeply about others, one especially wonderful old gal and treasure, that she forgot to comb her hair most days.  The one that could occasionally wear mis-matched socks, who had the same thing for lunch everytime we met. That friend.

The impact of this loss will unfold over time, with fond memories and picking up the slack by checking in on our mutual old friend. It will unfold when I put my glasses down and can’t remember where I put them as she often did.  It will unfold when I find myself at our old familiar diner.

She was a remarkable woman who shared.  She will be missed. She will not be forgotten. Farewell, Ellie