My friend Tom died a few days ago. He’d gone into palliative care, and then after a day started to check himself out again. I think he was afraid of the finality of the situation. I tried to call him, but he was either blocking everything, or more likely, simply physically unable to answer his phone. Fortunately, he realized that he was physically unable to leave the palliative unit, and he more or less slept the final 48 hours.
The last time I saw him, we discussed the finality of death at some length. I don’t think he was really prepared for it, as I suppose that I won’t be when my time comes.
Tom is the first of my close friends to die. I have lost parents and siblings, uncles, aunts, and grandparents. Tom’s death is different. We were young together, we tackled weighty philosophical questions together. We talked of girls and life and money, music and drugs and history – you know, all the important stuff. We didn’t always agree, and there were times when we didn’t speak for a day or two, but we understood each other.
I don’t have too many regrets other than the one large one, that I allowed my ex-wife to separate us, and that I didn’t rectify that until last year. I offer this advice: if you have a relationship with someone such that you would regret their death, and you have let your contact with them lapse, give them a call.