How their death shows your salt.

I am not writing about the death of a movie star this morning.

I am not writing about the death of a friend or relative. 

I am writing about the death of a human.

Yesterday, like much of the world, I read the sad news of Paul Walker's death.

I was instantly sad with the sight of his picture that was attached. It was a somber photo. He was looking down and had a smirk. I was sad about his death, the untimeliness of it all... 

About 10 days ago I lost a friend. 

My neighbor of 10 years.

He was not only my friend but he was a son, a husband and a Father. 

He was an eye, I always felt, watching over my house and my family when my husband was away. 

He was the man that we smiled and and waved to on a weekly basis. 

He was always smiling.

He worked on his boat and smoked the salmon that he caught, always sharing. Always smiling.

The sudden passing of my friend, 54 years young, has kept me in a constant state of worry. 

I worry about my own mortality. I worry about my husband. 

What would he do without me? Or worse yet, what would we do without him?

I am sad and in a somewhat dark place, as death tends to lend itself to the dark side. I am coping though. Remembering the good, trying not to focus too much on the fact that I will never see him again.  That his children will be without him. His beautiful wife. Her sadness is my sadness. I will be a good friend to her, even though I am paralyzed to help. I can do nothing to make her feel better. I can only be her friend and that will have to be enough- for both of us.

Before going to sleep last night I couldn't believe the jokes and rude comments about Paul Walker's death. There were people who were actually saying his death didn't matter. There were "friends" of mine that were writing about what they believed to be unjust shock waves- "if it had been De Niro".... seriously, I read that.

People are attempting to make jokes about the Fast and Furious movies, how he wasn't a good enough actor to be sad over. 

My stomach turned and I got really really angry.

What if this was my neighbor? What if someone wrote that about my friend?

That is the way it felt, because Paul was someone's neighbor. He was someone's son and friend and he was someone's Father. 

Would these "friends" say this about their neighbor? How they weren't good enough to be remembered? I can't say that they wouldn't. I can say that they are no longer people I associate with because I can take a lot, I can read ridiculous political opinions and still be your "friend". You can talk about Obamacare all you want, or the war or the GMO's. You can ask me to support something I don't believe in, you can talk about your God. I can really see the difference in all of us. I can accept, not support, a lot of things but I cannot accept, support or even be remotely associated with making light of someone's death. 

They are dead. 

They are gone.

Never coming back. 

Not to be in anymore movies, or smoke anymore fish.

RIP