Greg

I was looking for a photo I took of my friend John, as today is his birthday. I found a contact sheet with this on it instead. It's the only photo I have of my friend, Greg. It was a bit of a jolt seeing it because Greg has been on my mind a lot lately.

This tiny pic.
The sweetest, but alas, fading memories of our times together.
A huge empty space in my heart where he used to be--these are all I have left of my friend.

I know I've never fully mourned his death. I don't know how. It's something my therapist, Kristin, and I just talked about last week--Greg...how much Ron reminds me of Greg and always has...how much I relive losing Greg every time I lose Ron...and how much more I miss Ron every time I think about Greg. Yes, they are two very separate--and uniquely special--men. But they are both people I have lost from my life, and loss is something I have an extraordinarily difficult time processing.

Anyway, I've been thinking a lot lately about contacting Greg's best friend, Phyllis, and talking with her. I only met her once, at his funeral. That's part of the difficulty with this--I don't know any of his friends and I've never had anyone who knew him to talk to--I think that's an important part of the healing process when someone dies that I missed out on--the part where you reminisce with others who knew him and it helps somehow in validating that, yes, there WAS this person who touched your life--and YOU, in turn, had some impact on his life. I've only had my memories of Greg, unshared, unvalidated. It almost feels sometimes like it never happened...like I loved just a dream, and not a man.