Heartbroken, sad, confused...

In the pic: Brianna, Ashley, Kayleigh and Heather in 1991. It was Kayleigh's birthday party. Every single birthday party in those years had those four girls on the guest list. Without exception.

About 22 years ago I met a neighbor who became a dear friend.
We were both teen Moms, with one baby each, living next door to each other in a nondescript little apartment building in West Valley. It was on a street that a few years later was given the dubious distinction of "Most Crime Ridden Street In The City". And a decade or so after that the city completely removed the street. Now there's a senior housing development there. Or something like that. Pretty cool, huh? LOL
But it was cool, because that's where I met Paula. We hit it off right away and spent our days trying to figure out how to be wives and moms. Cross stitching and crafting and attending adult education classes to try to make up for what we left behind to become Moms and Wives. Good times.
We remained friends for quite awhile. We were friends through divorces, new relationships, my remarriage, her going back to college and recreating herself. Up until about 5 years ago or so. And then we just drifted apart. Tonight I realized just how far apart.
Her second daughter, Brianna, who was Heather's best bud through countless days at either their house or ours, died last Sunday.
And I just heard about it today. My Mom saw her obituary in the paper and called me.
My heart is broken. I don't even have the words to say how sad I feel tonight.
Sad for the loss of such a young and beautiful spirit.
Scared to have to think that children, even adult children, die.
Her children and mine were so inseparable for so many years. It's just too close to home.
Truly sad that our friendship has changed so much that I nearly missed even knowing that this tragedy had happened.
It was purely coincidental that I found out that Paula had a pretty serious personal tragedy of another kind just less than a year ago. I went to her then. We had lunch, talked on the phone a few times. And then drifted again.
Just last Tuesday Roger and I were driving by her neighborhood and I told him that I felt an urge to try to connect with her again but that it seemed hopeless. And that I shouldn't have to always be the one trying to connect. That maybe the friendship had just finally run it's course. Now I know I should have listened to that inner voice.
The funeral is tomorrow and I won't be able to go. Other plans have been made that can't be changed.
I called. I left a message. I'm not at all sure she'll return the call. But I told her I love her.
Hopefully that will help.
I can't imagine the state of grief she must be in. I'm not sure I'd want to be able to.