I woke up this morning intending to begin on an erotic historical piece. I'd gone over dialogue in my sleep and knew exactly how I want to proceed. But, a inexplicable sadness hung over me all day and words just would not come. I tried to work on an edit that I printed out last night to work on today. Again, I just couldn't concentrate on anything productive. Finally, I gave up and cleaned out my Farmville giftbox.
Then about 8pm, I got the news my spirit had been waiting for all day. A dear friend had been found dead in her home. She and I had worked together for almost 10 years, but had lost track of each other, when within weeks, we both got fired. I'd been so busy trying to get my head together, that I hadn't thought about Dottie in months.
But, tonight when I heard that she was gone, I felt a wave of emotion crash over my soul. Strongest was anger with the hospital where we'd worked for so many years. They fired her, knowing she had health problems, knowing losing her insurance would mean not getting her medications and access to specialists, knowing she was a single parent. And they did it without a blink. I know the hospital is in business to make money, but damn.
As I sit here, updating my status, fielding questions from mutual friends, I feel so guilty. I have so many people in my corner, wanting for me to succeed as a writer and Dottie didn't have anyone. No close family, no lovers and if I am example...no friends.
Intellectually, I know that there is probably nothing that I could have done differently that would have Dottie alive today. But in my heart, I also know that I let a friend down. She died alone on a kitchen floor. I can't remember if I ever told her how much I valued her friendship. And now I never can.
Tonight, I feel my mortality.