When the news arrived and cast a light dimly over the way
love lit my path
Without so much as asking
You were there
In the sorrow of the moment, you planted me in soil
And in the earthy smell of life giving way to death
You brought me back to the land of living
Because there was a friend at every turn
To hold me when I wept . . .
To linger on the telephone that first night I spent in the vastness of my loneliness . . .
To encourage me to come home . . .
To remind me to fight . . .
To ride with me across the expanse that bridged where I had been and where I was going . . .
To welcome me home . . .
To watch my kids when I needed a hand . . .
To be with me on a day that I had once celebrated, spending it with our kids on the sandy banks of a river . . .
To join the rest of them in drinking wine and making light of darkness . . .
To invite me over for dinner and give me flowers on Valentine’s Day . . .
To listen and pray and listen and pray . . .
And at the end of each . . . there was a friend.