I just got a call from Saren’s husband.

                She’s dead.

Which is why she hasn’t answered my phone calls these last number of months.

A nasty fall. A broken hip. A decline. Hospice. The plight of so many older women.

                My dear Saren.

I’ve been flashing on bits of our past ever since.

The nights out after one or another’s most recently failed relationship.

The Vision Quests in the wilderness of the Cascades.

The deep understanding.

The capacity for listening that is so rare.

And the night she sat on the side of my ed and asked bluntly: “Would you be OK if I was in this relationship you are in – going through what you are?”

Which proved to be the pivotal words that sank in and turned me around – and out – of an abusive, oppressive relationship that was dragging me into a perpetual mire that I really was stuck in.

                Saren.

Why am I sharing all this?  With my horror of exposing vulnerabilities?

Because. Believer me.  Really and truly – for each and every person you love – there will be a last thing you will have said to them.

Best to presume each thing might be that last one thing.