by Jane Beal
My dearest friend did not die when I was in España, despite the brain surgery – a fact worth remembering.
I had felt so afraid she would, six months after another woman I loved was killed in a car accident on Christmas Day.
In España, I stood in front of the candles in the darkness of more than one church, and lit them, and prayed for my friend, far away,
knowing that surgeons far away were shaving away the hair on her head and cutting open her skull to try to drain away the water
putting too much pressure on her brain, trying to stop the inevitable progress of pain and the threat of a deadly seizure.
It’s true: my dearest friend did not die when I was in España, and seven years later, she is still alive.
She is still alive.
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