by The Urban Blabbermouth
My friend Vicki died. We worked for the same company. Who could have guessed, when we first met over twenty-five years ago, that she would not make it past her fifties.
In the last eight years or so, we worked on different floors of the building. Vicki never mentioned that she was ill when we ran into each other in the lobby. She was on sick leave for a few months and I did not know. I came to work one morning and there was an announcement of her passing. I still do not know the nature of her illness.
We were friends and not friends. We shared no time outside of the office. Vicki had never been to my home nor I to hers. knew her as a single woman and as a married woman. I know about her husband and her children, although I have not met any of them. No matter, Vicki was a long-time part of my life and I feel her passing.
I feel my mortality too. I tell people to Save-the-Date for my one hundredth birthday party. My confidence about that is a little shaken.I guess I am entering that phase in my life where the health issues crop up among my friends and myself and some of us will not recover from the experience. It's not something I want to accept.
Rest In Peace, Vicki my friend.