Member-only story
For Carol
All the things I never had to say.
My friend died.
Her eighty-two-year-old husband sent a group text.
I had just logged in to work for the day and was sitting right here, at my desk, sipping coffee and reading messages when I heard my phone buzz.
“I’m sorry to have to inform you that Carol passed away on 1/24/22. The cause of death has not been determined. Take care.”
I felt frozen to my chair as I read the message over and over.
Soon, the replies began. Each gentle bzzzzz of my phone sent a shockwave through my body.
I couldn’t bring myself to text anything, not in the group.
Carol had meant so much to me, she had been more than just a friend. She was part cheerleader, part mentor, part mom I never had.
At twenty years my senior, we made unlikely friends. When we met, I had just closed my first brick-and-mortar business, had recently filed for divorce and was drinking far more than I should have been.
Carol owned a consignment store where she sold vintage furniture and household items. She made homemade walnut pesto and was famous for her Candy Buffets at weddings and parties. She was elegant and funny. Sassy and loving.
