Things are extremely hard over here. My friend is working hard fighting her illness, but it’s advancing. Those of us involved in her care are scrambling to try to get the next steps planned and provide maximum support and comfort. Without a crystal ball, the next hours, weeks, months are a big blank question mark.

Stressful, mundane, oddly beautiful, wretched, irritating, deeply scary. All of that, plus an infinite quantity of everything else.

The small group of friends that are the support system are in it for the duration. We are in a circle, arms locked, leaning into it, towards it. It’s death, but it’s also life. Burning, glorious, fearful in its magnitude — this unblinking confrontation grows our capacity to love, to understand.

But I can’t contemplate this vastness. It’s survival mode, baby. And so we go.