When your friends keep dying.

Every time I have spoken to my grandmother in the last 3 months, I've helped her mourn the loss of her friends, who seem to be slowly dying.

When I was in my 20's, I was struggling to make sense of the 'real world.' Now that I'm in my 30's, I am struggling to succeed in the real world. I'm not so sure being in my 80's will be much of a picnic for me.  I know I wouldn't enjoy it if my friends kept dying on me.

Mrs. A was born one day after my grandmother circa 1923, so this loss is substantial.  They lived their entire lives as best ladyfriends, one small town block away from one another. Mrs. A worked in a Dentist's Office, and she used to come to see me in violin recitals, choral concerts and school plays, and she would always thank me afterwards for getting her out of the house. I had never met her husband.  Perhaps she had one of those infamous Loveless Marriages that run rampant in Northeast PA. 

I remember when I was about 9, playing with a bunch of cousins and a backyard garden hose, my mother yelled at me. Mrs. A, who was nearby, contradicted Mom, saying, 'Oh he's just a boy." in a kindly tone of voice I wasn't used to: a tone of voice that my Mom has never been able to emulate. Mrs. A was that cool.

I've been on the phone with my Grandmother where she's gotten all emotional. I know what I feels like to lose a good friend. It feels nice to connect with family, and my Grandmother is a pretty real person, so that makes it special, especially since I'm far away from home right now. 

I don't know if my grandmother is dismissed as an 'old person' by everyone else, but I think she's awesome. Old people are awesome.