I have a friend that's not doing so well. I don't know what he has, but whatever it is, it's not good. Seeing him over the weekend made me sad: he had been reduced to a shallow voice punctuated by a sputtering cough. The whole time, I wanted to just say the right thing, or do something that would make things all better, but I couldn't and I knew I couldn't. I've been thinking a lot about him the past few hours or so. I've thought of many possibilities as to what his illness could be and rather subconsciously decided on an ailment I knew had a very good prognosis--a better indicator of my hope that things will be ok than a reflection of reality. But mostly a lot of good memories came to mind, like times we'd just sit and talk about random stuff and enjoy each other's company. As I left on Sunday evening, I wanted to give him a great, big hug. I wanted to let him know how much I worry for him and how much he means to me as a friend. But all I could manage was a tentative grasp and a few cursory pats on the back, the type of hug one guy would give another when too embarrassed to show he cares but compelled to do so because he cares too much not to. I probably won't see him for a while--and it all seems so final. I can't say with much conviction that things will all work out but I really, really hope and pray that they do.