Concerning the Death of a Friend

The Bard, On Grief:

Clown: Good madonna, why mourn’st thou?

Olivia: Good fool, for my brother’s death.

Clown: I think his soul is in hell, madonna.

Olivia: I know his soul is in heaven, fool.

Clown: The more fool, madonna, to mourn for your brother’s soul being in heaven.

~Twelfth Night, or, What You Will by William Shakespeare. Act I, scene 5.

And so passes a lovely and sweet lady. Though I know her soul is in heaven, I mourn her, but perhaps, more so in a selfish fashion, for I mourn for myself and my loss of her gentle acquaintance.

She died this morning, after a nine year battle with breast cancer.

She had a way of making each encounter precious. If you knew her but a little, she treated you as if she knew you well and dearly. The blow is harsh, and the wound runs deep. She is already missed.

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