Sad

Today I tell two more people who knew Colby that he had passed away. These, obviously, are not close friends of either Colby's or mine, but both are the kind of friend that you don't speak with for six months, but know you can call in the middle of the night to pick you up off the side of the freeway. Good friends. Both have been going through struggles of their own.

The telling makes me sad. Just when I think this part of the nightmare is over, when everyone should know what happened, it hits me right in the face and takes my breath away. After the initial telling I send them to Colby's memorial web site. They can find details there. Today it is too painful to relive it all again. Twice. But yesterday would have been okay. It works that way sometimes.

Later, each friend calls back and I have to remember that for them, the shock is fresh, new. They each have good memories of Colby. Stories I had all but forgotten, stories that I smile about, but that Colby would be embarrassed by. I cry with these friends. Proud that Colby made an impression, but sad for their troubles. One has photos. Somewhere. They will dig them up and email them. Prayers will be said. I can call. Anytime. For any reason. These are kind people. Good people. I know I may not talk with them for a while. But if I need to I know I can. And for now that's enough.