On the Death of a Friend

V Pendragon
2 min readApr 20, 2024

I have just spent the last forty-five minutes or so, lying on my back, on the couch, head propped up on one of the many small and uncomfortable pillows that mostly get tossed aside. I have been pondering the death — yesterday — of a friend.

She was younger than I, this friend, but filled with more knowledge about crystals and their properties than anyone I have met in my numerous decades on this planet. Her small condominium was pretty much wall-to-wall crystals… many still in the boxes they’d come in, just for the sake of storage. When I’d stop by for a chat or tea I’d usually find myself seated on a box of heaven-only-knows what while she lounged in her ‘throne,’ an over-stuffed arm chair that may once have rocked, both of us surrounded on all sides by cardboard and crystal.

Time would disappear.

She’d talk about her past… because I’d ask. She’d lived in this small community almost since its inception so she had roots — and knowledge –that I’d never have learned about otherwise as most of those ‘founders’ are now under-grounders. I’m old to life but not to this place where I live. She’d tell me about her life and her family and I’d share my history if she’d ever ask about it but mostly she didn’t which was my preference. I’m about bored to tears with my own history by now; hers was all new to me and I thoroughly enjoyed being an audience… especially an audience that could ask questions, which I almost always would because ‘curious’ is one of my primary attributes.

She had a daughter, this friend, and her daughter had a son and that son — who is, by now, probably early grade-school age — is one of the most remarkable human beings that I have ever met. Her daughter and grandson used to live here, in this small community, until a very unfortunate misunderstanding resulted in them having to move away. So, needless to say, they, too, were often topics of our conversation especially because her grandson is… I’m just gonna go with remarkable and leave it at that because he possess skills that surpass words.

So this was an interesting person… a really interesting person… and one of the highlights of my life here (and I’m tearing up just trying to type this)… and she’s gone. Just gone. No hints this might happen — although, of course, death happens that way more often than you’d like. She was for me what some folks might call a soul-sister. Certainly her death has struck a chord that very much reminds me of how I felt when my sister died.

Just ‘writing’ all this has helped. I’m glad Medium exists so I could do this, process this. I’m gonna go cry some more now as it’s getting hard to see the keyboard.

Thank you for existing. You matter.



V Pendragon

Artist; Author of self-help books on healing with Ozark Mt. Publishers; survivor of two 'fatal, incurable' diseases and a healthy dose of CSA