Permission To Feel

     Last night, I found out that an old friend of mine passed away.  I worked with her for several years at the Crimson Crustacean.  Anyone who has worked at a restaurant in their late teens or early twenties knows how close you become with your co-workers.  You work together, you play together, you are completely enmeshed in each other's lives.  I haven't spoken to my friend in several years.  We just drifted apart, as so often happens.  When I was told about her passing, I immediately brushed it off.  I said to myself, "That's very sad.  But you haven't talked to her in years.  You don't have the right to get all torn up about this."  And then I went to sleep, and had troubled dreams that I can't remember.
     This morning, as soon as I opened my eyes, I remembered that she was gone.  And I remembered what a wonderful person she was.  I never heard a hateful word come out of her mouth.  And then I gave myself permission to feel.  And I cried.  A lot.  I'm trying not to cry right now.  I have tried very hard all my life to shove my feelings down into a nice, tidy bundle that can be kicked under the bed.  But, I'm not going to do that today.  My friend Amy died.  And that breaks my heart.

Rest in peace, Amy.
  The world will truly be a poorer place without you.