Mama-Come-Lately

Ready or not, the weekend is upon us, and there are things to look forward to: downtime, getting together with friends, watching the Boo at his Ninja class (obstacle courses and gymnastics, NOT throwing stars). There are also the usual chores: laundry, cleaning, laundry, dishes, and of course laundry. Oh, and the time change.

And then there’s the funeral for a childhood friend. He died a few weeks ago as the result of addiction. He had a four-year-old son and a partner who loved him. He was massively talented, sweet, funny and kind. It is heartbreaking and enraging that he is gone, and yet in many ways he was living on borrowed time, and many of us knew that, although most of us had been lulled into thinking he was “doing fine.” But none of us could have prevented his death, because addiction is a hellish beast of a chronic disease. Those who suffer from it often feel shame around relapses, and so they hide while the rest of us carry on, ignorant of their pain.

There will be many old friends at the memorial, and words and stories, food and drinks, but there will be no Josh. I keep thinking about how weird it will be to see and hear evidence of him everywhere, but not to be able to see him except in the images pasted to foamcore and projected on screens. I am dreading it, and yet I know I need it, because the heaviness of his death has been with me for weeks and it is time for it to be lifted.

Ready nor not, here it comes.