I know I said yesterday that I'd be cheerful again today, but something happened again.
One of my dear friends from Love Creek, Helen Diane Hoblit, died on Saturday.

She had the flu and she wasn't getting better and she wasn't getting better, so she finally went to the hospital, and while she was there she had a heart-attack and died.

I don't know what Le's gonna do without her. I don't know what any of us are gonna do without her. Diane never had a bad thing to say about anybody, and always gave people the benefit of the doubt, but she wasn't a wimp. She was under five feet tall, but she never let anyone walk all over her.

My God, we're all going to miss her.

It just seems as though everyone around me is dying.

When I was younger, nobody died ever, practically. Mathilde Smith died in a car crash when I was nine or ten, Fred Goodman, an adult friend, died of cancer when I was about sixteen, and Kent Morgan, a friend from high school, died of throat cancer about nine or ten years ago, but that was it. I mean, friends of my parents died, but not friends of mine.

Now, though, it seems that someone is dying every few months. First my Uncle Bob, then Cynthia from work, then dear Monique, then Daddy, and now Diane.

And it's not going to stop; I know that now.

People whom I love are going to keep dying and there's not a thing I can do about it. I feel as though if I don't keep my eyes on everyone all the time, if I turn away for even a second, someone else will disappear.

It was funny, I was talking to Cynthia about Little Women and all, and she told me this story about having a job interview soon after her mother died and needing to kill some time, so she went to see Terms of Endearment, and blew that interview something awful. And Thomas told me that after his mother died he wanted to get away from it all, so he went to see The English Patient, and if you haven't seen it he's on morphine, and Thomas' mother was on morphine before she died, and it just goes to show you, you should be VERY careful of the movies you see after someone dies.

The day after my father died, Rita and Simon dragged me to see Beavis and Butthead Do America, of all things, which actually turned out to be an excellent choice.

No chance of melancholy there.

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