Farewell, Dolly

This is different from all the other TWIT journal entries I've written.  It's not pleasant, but it's a part of life that we just have to deal with.  I write this with a heavy, heavy heart for my best friend Stacy who lost her mother Dolly Sunday night.  I sat with her most of the day on Saturday and Sunday at the hospital, while she, her sister and her father waited and watched.  During those hours, we cried, we laughed, and we were even mad a time or two. We reminisced and we looked toward the future. We were anxious, and at times we were calm.
As I sat there with her, I felt a mix of emotions within.  I felt a bit helpless because there wasn't much I could really say or do - I was just there for hugs and support. But this weekend that was exactly what my best friend and her family needed.   I felt my heart break in two while my best friend was watching her mother die.  I felt incredible sadness for Dolly's best friend Ann, whose heart was also breaking in two because she was losing her best friend.  I gave her a hug and held her hand in the waiting room and cried and prayed with her as I thought of how she must feel. 
On the way home from the hospital Sunday night, I reminisced about Dolly and her life, and felt some happiness as I thought of all of the fun times I had at their home. Many an evening she would listen from the top of the stairs as Stacy and I sang while I played the guitar down in their basement.  I owe her a debt of thanks, because she was one of the first people who encouraged me to play the guitar and sing.  Dolly also loved to sing, and loved classic country music.  She and her husband Tom took me to see George Jones one time - a concert I'll never forget.  She's hearing quite a better caliber of singers and guitarists today as she listens up in heaven, but I'll be playing for her again one day when I make it up there, and I'm sure she'll sing along.