Many times in my life I have missed my dance with death. Today when my closest friend had full on seizure for one of the dozens of times but this was the first I saw nothing in her eyes. I held her spitting, sputtering, blue purse lipped face willing life into her eyes with mine. I could not fathom her gone. Her mind gone. This wasn’t gonna kill her. I knew that. But the lack of unconsciousness behind her eyes, the almost glazed over on the edge of never laughing, crying, complaining, cheering, singing, loving, or just being present; filled me with fear. A Fear for her, for me, for what happens when your brain fries, for where she goes and if she’ll come back.

Those moments of her flailing spasms are lost to her never to know what happens, but burned in my mind like senged smoldering wood on campfire never to be gone from my mind