Thursday was one of those classic life cycle days - a beautiful new baby (welcome, Georgia) came into the world and a very special friend (goodbye, Melanie) left it.
This loss was very hard, partly because it was sudden and unexpected, partly because she was only 45. I only saw her 3 or 4 times a year, but we always saved each other seats at our library meetings, and knit together.
I think she would have been annoyed by the timing. I can picture her standing in front of St. Peter, calmly pointing out that it was the middle of her summer reading program and did he realize the party was next week, and that she has 3 boys to send off to college this month, and she really wanted to finish just one more preemie hat. It's yet another thing that makes me doubt St. Peter's existence, because I can't imagine him standing firm in the face of Melanie's conviction that she should be returned immediately, especially if there were dirty dishes in the sink (although I bet there weren't).
I keep feeling like I should be able to call her and talk about the silly mistake they made.
I'll miss you, Melanie. Save me a seat.