Dublin, Ireland

My friend learned the date I never talk about

Dear Delyara, My brother died twelve years ago. I rarely mention the anniversary because I dislike people feeling obliged to say the right thing. My friend Tom somehow remembered the date after hearing it once years ago. Every year, he sends one message: Thinking of you and Mark. No need to reply. Nothing else. He uses my brother’s name. That matters. This year, I did reply. I asked if he wanted coffee. We met and talked about football for forty minutes before I finally told him one story about Mark stealing my car when we were teenagers. Tom laughed. He did not turn solemn because I mentioned a dead person. Gratitude is having a friend who understands that remembering someone does not always require making the whole day about grief. Sometimes it is simply leaving a door unlocked in case I decide I want to walk through it.