In my thirties it seems like it was the time to spend many many hours in chemo rooms and hospital rooms and at friends' houses while they battled breast cancer and lymphoma primarily. I was super lucky and only lost 2 friends.
In my 40s it seems like now I spend a lot of time trying to (very inadequately) support friends whose children have died ODing. 4 times in almost as many months, though I have not really known the adult kiddo in question until this morning.
I first met him when my now-teens were toddler/babies. My twins were 5 months old at the time and I was both desperate to have time where I was not covered in babies but also super freaked out about leaving them anywhere. My friend and her son were working the church nursery that week and I certainly trusted her so I got an hour reprieve. I came back to see this huge beefy football player 17 year old kid rocking in a rocking chair with one of my babies in each arm, talking to them as they gazed adoringly at him, enraptured by this big boy. It melted my heart. He was off to his own life and lots of troubles before I knew him well. Just the struggles his mom shared with me. But I think of that and it's hard to not cry to think of that vulnerable and complicated boy. He was in recovery and doing well and this morning was a surprise but I know that's so hard. Addiction sucks. Cancer sucks. It is hard to breathe. And I dont know how to support friends who have faced losses that I dont even have an inkling of, as I have only dealt with miscarriages, not the loss of a child that one had seen grow and loved and fought with and worried over for so long.
And of course, the big major work audit happens this morning, surprise, while we are understaffed. The cherry on top of a shit sundae day I guess.