Another friend is at the end of the road.
He's a good guy. The first time he beat cancer he was ten years old. He's now in his late fifties, and has robbed the bastard a couple times more, but he's tired and can't do more. He's a good man, one of the smartest, bitingly wittiest I know. He looks like an overgrown little boy but his photos are in the permanent exhibitions of museums. He's also a fine therapist and has been my consultant, my colleague and my friend for more than ten years.
Today his wife and little son opened the front door of their house, where he is drifting in and out of consciousness, and welcomed everyone to simply come in and say goodbye. They've come in droves. No one is sure how much he knows, but if he does, he'd be surprised that so many of us care. He's like that.
I wish him easy passage and I will remember.
Life has been fragile and beautiful and terrible lately.
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Sad 
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I feel like that a LOT, but the "beautiful" part still overwhelms the other two.
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It sounds like your friend was like that, too. And laws, laws, laws -- do I EVER
understand the "tired" part.
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You were a part of the beauty that helped sustain and buoy him for so long.
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As you are of mine.
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And in an amazing way, the fragility and terribleness are a part of the beauty.
My friend is at that sacred jumping off place into...what? We all imagine but can never know.
Makes love important.
You said it right: love is so important. There is really nothing else ...
Your friend may look unconscious, but he really isn't. He hears you, and your love...
Safe passage to him!
I really hope he is aware of all those who have come for one last visit.
