One of the things that really caught my attention was the way she referred to her own father in the past tense. "Yes, my dad passed away six months ago." and as she began to tell her story of heartache, her voice broke into hysterics. I was sad that I couldn't say something effective to her that would make her feel better. You know, something holistic and wise. Because here's this old, old friend from years back when we were children, and all of a sudden I feel the need to give her a comfort hug.
I went through the basics of saying I'm sorry and sending my condolences. God, I'm so use to being unreliable, I forgot to ask her if there was anything I could do, then again, it's been six months since the heart attack and she did say she's been handling everything herself. I doubt Patricia sees this, and you know I don't even know what she looks like now. I began to wonder how distraught she must be to be calling to check on my dad's recovery, since we hardly ever talk anymore. The last time was probably a year ago because, well, I had called her…
I really need to call her back to ask her how things are going. She helped me a lot just by taking my call last year. I want to say I was about just as emotional as she's been lately, but I don't think losing a loved one like a parent is comparable to my idle problems. This is awakening me of my laziness to take out the trash and sweep the street of palm dates that the Santa Ana's are blowing all over.