Friends

I've lost a few close friends this year.
Well, I haven't really lost them. We buried their bodies, but I know that their souls still exist in full glory; and I know that the time we spent together, the inspiration we shared, and the relationships we built stand strong despite by their passing. Souls, and relationships, transcend the horrible ravages of disease.
But I've still had a loss. I’m now missing the opportunity to see a smile, share a good word or shake a caring hand. I still have my friends, but I no longer have the same interface; which is why we mourn.
Technically, these were congregants, whom I served in my Rabbinic capacity. But that sounds much too stiff and ‘vertical’ for me; and it’s woefully inadequate to describe a friendship, a relationship which is eminently safe, and in which each gives and each receives.
I’ve lost friends who happened to be congregants.
So now what?
The Torah instructs us: "the living shall take to [his/her] heart" (Ecclesiastes 7:2). We, who are still engaged in this human journey, need to learn lessons and grow from our relationships, even from an emotionally painful passing. When we grow from our relationships, when they propel us to a more refined phase in our human experience, we are honoring them in the greatest way possible.
So where’s my lesson?
In retrospect, this year has taught me that I need to a let a friend know how much I value their friendship. Today. No waiting for tomorrow.
I’ve also felt the profound value in being a friend to someone. A real friend. It takes effort and it may feel vulnerable at times, but it’s one of life’s greatest gifts.
Try it. Be there for someone. Care about them, share with them and become important to them.
True, more people will feel pain and loss when you’re gone; but it’s still to their benefit. Eventually, they’ll appreciate that the sense of loss is a price they’re paying for the gift they’ve had.
And it’s worth it.