Tears At Lunch

My friend Liz, who's mother died three weeks ago of ovarian cancer, is in Boston visiting. We meet at the airport as she comes in from Texas and eat a nice lunch -- and talk about death. She's written some great stuff about her mom and gives it to me to read. It's really great writing. I gently tell her she better get on the Blogtrain. She's a natural for it.

She's only in college and I can't imagine how this must be for her. I lost my parents in their 80's -- her mom was 48. We have an amazing view of Boston Harbor out the windows of the Hyatt Harborside Hotel restaurant. It's a beautiful day and we're crying a bit. Everyone dies -- even on a beautiful summer day, we know, everyone dies.

She hits on that painful sensation I kept having after my mom's death -- that interrupted turn towards the phone or towards my mom's room to share something with her and that shudder and stop when you realize there's no more of that to be had.