Yesterday was a sad day.

My friend John died yesterday-- peacefully, at home, with his wife and children and a couple of good friends by his side. That's the way to do it.

I went over later and helped wash his body. It wasn't bad, as the hospice visting nurse had done the messiest parts. It was more a way of honoring the vessel that had carried his soul through so many joyous and difficult years. We talked about recent memories of John and things we'd done with him -- his wife even got out a scrapbook their daughter had made from their most recent trip to Puerto Rico.

Their son has given up his summer to be with his father so his mother could keep working. I took him for a ride over to Burger King (paying attention to the road on a day like this is tricky, as I know well), and we talked about everything except what was happening, which was exactly what he needed.

I expect to be busy helping out with the wake and memorial service early next week.

Sad, but also good. It helped me remember that death is not the enemy. The enemy is whatever makes us lead an empty life.