Guilty.

I’ve barely been able to breathe since I read the update email about my friend S.

I’m terrified for her.

I can’t believe that we’re not too young to be touched by this sort of thing.

I’m so, so sad for her husband and little girls.

I selfishly don’t want to lose someone I love.

But mostly, I feel guilty.

Because she’s SO important to me.

But in the past year or so, we’ve drifted apart. For no reason, really. We used to live in the same house with them, used to have dinners and parties and watch football and baseball and go camping together.

But now we’re both working moms, and we live an hour apart. And it’s so hard to keep up, and make plans. And now that we need to keep some semblance of a schedule with O’s naps, and she has two kids in the same situation, we can only snatch time in a couple of hour blocks here and there.

And over the past month – before her husband called to tell us the news – I have thought about her SO MANY TIMES. But have never called because, you know, it’s always the wrong time. On my way home from work right smack in the middle of dinnertime. And it didn’t REALLY matter, because we would see them Columbus Day weekend, when we make our annual trip with them and another couple to New Hampshire.

Always, ALWAYS, my friends have been important enough to me that I spend TIME on keeping in touch. And I can make every excuse in the world on how hard it is to keep this up with a child, yada yada.

Truthfully, I always thought that we had TIME to catch up. That it wasn’t awful that we went a couple of months without talking; we could pick right up where we left off.

Because we still had years together. Where we’d go on camping trips when our kids were old enough to ride their bikes down to the pond to fish. And we could sit by the fire with our beer and have great conversation.

But she’s on borrowed time. I have no idea how much time we have together. And I’m sure all her other friends and family are thinking the same thing, too.

So why does it take news like THIS for me to remind myself that my friends are this important?

Terminal fucking cancer. And I want to show her somehow just how much she means to me. Is it for ME, or for her? I don’t know.

All I know is that I feel helpless, and I want to DO something. Anything. To help.

So next weekend I’m running the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure with my good friend D (who has graciously agreed to run a freaking 5k with me when she’s in town for a visit. Seriously, how awesome is SHE?). I’ve pledged to raise money for research (and if you interested in donating email me at serenitynowinfertile at gmail dot com and I can direct you to my site).

We made them one of our favorite soup recipes yesterday and froze it, and I’ll drive it down to their house today.

Feels like such stupid piddly little things, but it’s not nothing, I suppose.

I think it’s going to take me longer to get over the guilt of not being a better friend before now, that’s all.