We received a call Sunday night. Susan, a friend of my daughter, died last Thursday. Forty-five years old, she contracted Covid and died after passing out in the bathroom, her oxygen levels depleted.
Kate, my daughter, knew Susan from high school. Both were in Special Education at Camden Catholic. They had a small circle of friends, all with some physical or emotional shortcoming which required special attention from a caring adult community.
Susan and her friends also sometimes suffered a separation from their high school peers, those teenagers unsure how to feel empathy while they navigate their own course through adolescence.
This group of friends bore their difficulties and relied on each other for support in a world unprepared for the issues they faced.
The circle shrank as the years went on, but Kate and Susan kept in touch. Susan lived in a group home, her issues requiring the close monitoring of trained therapists. On holidays, when Susan came home for brief periods, Kate would visit her and watch movies, mostly Harry Potter films that Kate had seen a dozen times already.
But they gave each other gifts of time and companionship. Not much conversation, just presence and normal human interaction. They both benefited from this and were prepared to keep up their friendship for life until the virus took Susan.
There are many gifts that can be given: money, the latest electronics, crazy socks, alcohol. Yet, when it all comes to a bottom line companionship, compassion, and the gift of time spent together, outlasts the material objects that distracts us.
Kate and Susan figured that out many years ago.
Kate, my daughter, knew Susan from high school. Both were in Special Education at Camden Catholic. They had a small circle of friends, all with some physical or emotional shortcoming which required special attention from a caring adult community.
Susan and her friends also sometimes suffered a separation from their high school peers, those teenagers unsure how to feel empathy while they navigate their own course through adolescence.
This group of friends bore their difficulties and relied on each other for support in a world unprepared for the issues they faced.
The circle shrank as the years went on, but Kate and Susan kept in touch. Susan lived in a group home, her issues requiring the close monitoring of trained therapists. On holidays, when Susan came home for brief periods, Kate would visit her and watch movies, mostly Harry Potter films that Kate had seen a dozen times already.
But they gave each other gifts of time and companionship. Not much conversation, just presence and normal human interaction. They both benefited from this and were prepared to keep up their friendship for life until the virus took Susan.
There are many gifts that can be given: money, the latest electronics, crazy socks, alcohol. Yet, when it all comes to a bottom line companionship, compassion, and the gift of time spent together, outlasts the material objects that distracts us.
Kate and Susan figured that out many years ago.