This afternoon I learned that one of my college friends died of breast cancer. She was 39. I was struck pretty hard by the news. She was someone I was fairly close to in college, but then lost track of immediately afterwards. I only saw her at reunions. So it’s not as if I had remained close to her. If I had, I would have know about the downturn her health had taken in the last month and perhaps, the news of her death would not have been quite so surprising.

For me, she is frozen in time, 20 years ago, when I would spend many hours sitting in her dorm room, discussing the finer points of relationships. I remember when she asked me if she should pursue her future husband romantically. “We’re best friends,” she had said. “I can’t sleep with my best friend.” I assured her she could. She was a very solid person and was always a good source of advice, so I always liked spending time with her, whether it was hanging out in her room or at a party or having a couple of drinks.

When I saw her later, she still had her youthful vivaciousness, but touched with maturity. She had become a wonderful woman.

I don’t know what else to say except that it just seems so hard to have someone die so young. She seems to have lived a rich life, but it just wasn’t a long enough one.

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