I wish I could talk to you, Martha. I wish I hadn't been so dismissive and hurt the last few months of your life. I didn't know you were going through that much pain; the pain so striking you wanted to end it. I hope you understand that I too was in pain. Pained from the loss of a dear friend I counted on. Someone who had witnessed my life up into adulthood. Someone I wanted to help. Someone I needed to hear on a regular basis. And then you disappeared...into drugs, into chaos, into the deepest and darkest sadness. I was angry and annoyed when you called, with your voice so lost. You needed answers on how to live. How to move around in this world. You were 34, so was I. I knew what had worked for me...but who knew if that would work for you. It never seemed like my suggestions were ever do-able for you. And, what did I really know about answering such questions. I may have looked like a steel warrior, but I am and was just as scared...most of the time. The ...