A Sad Post

I took a quick break from frantic cleaning and a chocolate cake disaster to check my email and discovered that my friend in Red State Capital City Suburb died almost two weeks ago (I'd link to my post a few months ago about moms with cancer, but I don't have time to find it). I read it and thought that's sad and went back downstairs. Then, in a sudden shot of memory, straight to my gut, I remembered that one of my dearest friends died of AIDS the morning of our seder, back in 1992 (M is named after him). I remember talking about him at our seder that night--a graduate student seder, no kids, lots of wine, we all sang the four questions together, I don't remember what we did with the afikoman--and I think I said something meaningful about Passover and death and spring and life and activism, because he was one of the most out there activists I knew. But now I'm thinking about my friend and her daughters who--I think I wrote this before--need their mother so much. I mean, my girls need their mother, but they have a fabulous father and grandparents ten minutes away and so many loving adults in their life, and those girls just don't. And I am so sad. I don't think I am going to say anything meaningful at our seder tonight, because this friend did not mean to me what my friend who died of AIDS meant to me, and nobody else needs to feel bad about a mom dying in Red State who they didn't even know. Maybe I'll even forget for a few hours.

Now I'll go clean and listen to loud Wilco some more. S is dealing with the cake disaster. And we'll have a lovely seder, I'm sure, but tomorrow I will think about those girls having Easter without their mother, and I will be so sad.