Death and dying - my friend has six months.

At the weekend, I found out that my friend, of many many years is dying of lung and liver cancer. We met at a cafe and the first thing she said was that she was so pleased that she and her husband, who split up five years ago, were back together. 'We were both stupid, proud and trying go make a point.'

She said that now, with just six months left on this earth, she realised it didn't matter who did the ironing and who cleaned the toilet. All that mattered, she asserted, was that you looked after each other, had mutual respect and told each other how you were feeling. For example, if you have had a bad day at work, or performed badly in an interview, don't just sulk, leaving the other one to wonder what he/she had done wrong and feeling unjustly treated and  resentful - speak and explain. She advised too that you don't blab to your friends all the ins and outs of your relationship. Sometimes your confidantes can come back to bite you. Intriguing...

I was intrigued and as she talked I was overwhelmed by the calm way she talked and smiled even - and laughed! I even began to wonder if she was not dying, if she had been cured. I gathered myself and asked her how she was. 'I'm ok. I've had almost two years to get used to this. There is no doubt it changes you, makes you think differently and though I am afraid of how I might die, I am not afraid of being dead. It'll happen to all of us.'

'How is your mum taking it?' I dare to ask.

''It's awful for her - just awful. She tries so hard not to cry but she cries all the time. She wishes it was her and not me. This is one of those times, when I wish I had a sibling.'

'Do you think that would make any difference to your mum?' I asked.

'She would have someone to comfort her, someone to live for. All she has now, or will have in a few months, is a dead daughter.' She looked very troubled for a few seconds, then pulled herself back into the moment.  

What was so troubling and paralysing in our conversation was the realisation that I could not ask any questions about the future, or talk about my future, and was very aware to try not to mention it. So many of our conversations are to do with our future plans, including holidays, Christmas, hoping for a better job, moving house or considering a new pet. Everything about our lives presumes a future.

She had to go, she was going to the hospital for a 'procedure' - some small operation which would make her more comfortable. We hugged and I cried. She smiled. 'Remember me smiling - please. And healthy looking not this skeleton I have become. Oh, and at the funeral, please wear something brightly coloured.' And she left.

I was at work the next day, when my mobile rang. It was lunch time. My friend's husband told me that she had died, her body wasn't strong enough to withstand the small operation. Her death was very peaceful.'

At the funeral, which was very well-attended, I wore a bright blue dress. No one was in black. She would have loved it.