Learning about the death of someone you used to know is not the way anyone wants to wake up. Alas. I haven’t thought about this person in years. How many lifetimes ago was that? This is a thing I’m noticing about getting old. The older I get, the more death I encounter. Is death something to be afraid of? I don’t know if I’m not afraid. When’s the last time you thought about your own death? People die every day and how lucky am I that I even woke up this morning? So lucky. People are dying for reasons that make no sense. People are dying for no reason at all. I’m done complaining about getting old.
I’m trying to remember everything I can about this person who I used to know. We were kids together. It makes me sad that I remember so little. I remember so little of the way they were and from that little bit, it’s hard to imagine the person they became. I look back at the time we were in school together and can imagine moments where we laughed. We must have laughed together at some point. We were all pretty happy kids but I can’t remember anything specific. This person was an already forgotten part of my childhood.