My friend died this week. She was my age. She was brilliant. She closed her eyes, she fell asleep in her bed like every other night. And she didn’t wake up.
We sang Rod Stewart songs in the car at the top of our voices. She spent a Christmas in a homeless shelter washing the feet of tramps and serving them dinner. Who DOES that?! She was the best bloody social worker I knew. She did more than her job and she was more than her job. She was just…a nice person. A Good person.
Emily. Darling Emily. Sometimes there are places beyond our world which need you more than we do here, and darling, there you are right now. Laughing at my blog entry, patting my head and telling me to get a bloody grip.
You, Emily, are a star.
Rave on, bird, Rave on.