My friend Connie died.
She was in the hospital presumably getting better about to be released, when she suddenly just passed.
Her brother, whom she lived with said, how strange it was because she talked that whole day about coming home then sent them away saying, “See you all tomorrow when we’ll celebrate.”
She waited for them all to leave before taking flight.
I find this so bewildering and will admit, macabrely fascinating as if one can book their own passage into the great beyond.
Connie was a passionate Christian. Went to mass every day until she was too weak to go. I met her in church years ago when she invited me to breakfast one day deciding, she would be my friend.
This is what I’m most disturbed about. I wish I was as attentive to her as she was to me, and simply wasn’t.
I spend a great deal of time doing things for others, mostly those who really don’t respond nor care. Connie deserved my attention yet, I let her, more often than not, slip through the cracks having no explanation for this except instead, lobbying for love that was never really there.
She never forgot my birthday or me at Christmas. I’d meet her for breakfast always paying with a big bill, shoving the change into my pocket calling to make sure I got home okay.
I took her care for such granted and now she’s off into the night hopefully on her way to a place where she won’t be forgotten.
The only good from this is to try not to let it happen again.
Those who truly show us love are the ones to show up for.
I will always remember her, Consuelo Villelonga…who held me in such high esteem for reasons surpassing my understanding.
Farewell my friend.
Rest in peace.