Remember

I gave you all some advice a while ago, or it wasn't really advice. Simply I said, "You can laugh, or you can cry, but you can not ignore." I am in a position in my life right now where I am brought to tears. My friend has been fighting cancer for the past several years. I truely thought that you would make it. And I never thought that I would be preparing for your death this young. It isn't fair, and everyone keeps agreeing with me on that, but it I know that she is not taken by surprise. I thought it was going so well, I thought that it was going into remission, and that she was going to have a long life. But then just as suddenly as ever could be possible, a complete change for the worst... she is in a hospice now. She will never leave. I will never take her to go fly one of the kites I built, and she will not be going to a park to play with Ada or Nadine (dogs). She wanted those things, and maybe she thought that if she kept a good outlook they would happen. I deep down think that it wasn't going well for a very long time, and that she knew. I wonder if she was telling us that it was going well to keep our hope alive and to keep her own alive. She chose to laugh, not cry. And chose for us to laugh, not cry. She wanted joy and relief. She was not ignoring it, I don't think. She was going for regular scans and all that. There was no pretending it wasn't happening.
I have never had to prepare for a friend of MINE die. Friends of family have died, but none where I have felt so alone. My family knows Ann, but none of them as well as I do. I am already thinking about the future, and what needs to happen. I suppose that is how you know i am growing up, I am making sure that all the things that need to get done are getting down before I start to get all emotional. People around me know that I am an emotional person. They think I am taking it hard now... but I am a wailer. Short of my grandfather... I don't think I have ever felt this much loss before, or am expecting to feel this much loss. I already feel like she is gone, but without the relief of closure.
I am going to go see her tomorrow in a hospice. I just don't know what is going to happen. I am worried that i am going to spend the whole time crying. And that isn't going to accomplish anything. I am worried that she isn't going to be the same Ann that I know, like she isn't going to be suddenly made of glass; fragile. I am making ice cream for her, and taking several small cups of it tomorrow, I have never been so unsure about how it will come out. Normally it is OK if it is a little off, but it has to be perfect tomorrow. What if she can't eat it, or something? I will feel like I missed the chance to give it to her, I was too late. I missed you when you were healthy enough to fully enjoy life. I was too busy putting my own shit first to do enough with you. I missed out on you.

I was lookign through my computer, for a good picture of Ann to put as the image to this post. iodn't even have one. How shitty of a friend am I? I don't even have a photo of her, I knew the woman for almost seven years and I don't have one dam picture of her.