Death sucks.

I know, that isn't very deep, and frankly, immature, not to mention, a poor use of what is normally an extensive vocabulary. And quite simplistic. And not in harmony with the circle of life.

Bite me.

LE is feeling mad. LE's parents' best friends were in a car accident Friday. Husband is hurt, wife died.

My parents are in their 70's, as are their friends. Having parents at this age, you worry about health. There's part of you that worries about that inevitable phone call .. the "there's a lump" or "there's a clot" or "they say it was a heart attack."

Not a car accident.

Death wouldn't be so bad, I said to The Husband, if it weren't so permanent. That's what I can't get my head around. My mom will never sit down with S----- again, having a martini, laughing uproariously.

I hate that I really, really understand "Both Sides Now" -- now. I hate that I had to find out that I really was "that person" -- the wide-eyed, naive, happy-go-lucky girl who saw rows and floes of angel hair -- and now, I'm not.

But I'm also not the daughter of S-----. My heart goes out to her.