On Friday I’ll be burying a friend. Carol Rozio. Carol von Spreken. Carol was my first best friend and we spent every day together during our childhood. We met in Kindergarten. I would follow whatever she did, whether I was well in my mind or not. Especially for the time and place of our friendship, Carol was a dear friend. I hadn’t seen her in years. I found out a year and a half ago that she had cancer. It was serious.
The past couple weeks I learned just how serious it was. She was absolutely attacked by cancer. I had no idea the level that this shit was eating at her. I cried for her, her husband and her two year old. Her husband was with Carol to the very last moment of her life. She was 36. Thank God he could ease some of her pain. Someday I hope the profundity of his love from his presence there will give him solace in his grieving. I hope it can give him joy that he was able to experience such a love.
I woke up Monday morning with a very fresh dream of Carol in my mind. It felt like we were really together. She didn’t want me to see her in her deterioration but I let her know it was OK and she became beautiful. Then we just sort of hung out. Did some stuff. You know… it was nice. I woke up thinking, “Did it happen?” I thought she was OK. I learned a couple hours later that she did die that morning. I was tremendously grateful for my dream with her.
Friday is the memorial. It’s worked out perfectly that I can go with who I want to and when I want to. There’s nothing like being there for Carol.
Here we are on a trip to Balboa Island when we were probably 11 or 12. She’s the blonde on the end. We were all kind of dorky. Time was spectacular then. We were young and hated our bodies, but ice cream was so delicious. Love your friends.