Tonight, a night of connection, a tale of two friends, who has begun to live again, another who died a few days ago.

The first friend came to dinner, she is a recovering alcoholic, giving rebirth to herself.

She is fine, healthy, in recovery and loving her AA meetings. She is one of those people who cherish the chance to be better and get a fresh start, she is eager to move along with her life.

We had a sweet dinner on the back porch, talking easily and comfortably for four hours. I had no idea it was that late when she left, the time passed so easily.

As she was getting out of the car, she blew me a kiss – six feet away – and told me that she loved the feeling of our home, it was special.

I told her I thought this was Maria’s work, her love of life and radiance gave our home warmth and ease. Maria has a gift for that, I don’t really.

Maria said it was us together, we get along so well and love one another so much, it fills the house with love and connection.

But I think it is her radiance more than anything else.

People love her, her art, her honesty, her creativity, and energy.  So do I. I am glad when people tell us they feel at ease in our home.

All of the living things here are gentle, nice, and peaceful beings. There is a sense of peace and safety here

___.

Rose Koch, the second friend, was a very important person in my life. She died a few days ago of a heart attack. I hadn’t seen Rose in two decades or more, but I heard from her ever day.

I am in touch with very few people from my past, I shy away from them. Rose wouldn’t permit that, she said our friendship was important and she would stay with it.

She befriended me when I joined the Quaker Meeting in Montclair, N.Y. Rose had returned from Africa where she and her husband David had done missionary work for the Quakers.

David contracted AIDS while in Africa, and when he got sick I was new to the meeting. He had come home to die.

It was heartbreaking to watch, their love for one another was great.

I felt a real connection with David and I began visiting him regularly at their home, reading to him, talking to him, keeping him company.

It was an important experience for me, perhaps the first time I reached out to a needy and vulnerable person in that way. David started me on this journey to be a better person, to do good.

It was a long time before I understood how to do it. Rose Koch taught me. She was gentle, kind, and full of faith.

Rose and I became good friends after David died, and then I moved away to the country and lost touch.

I am still a member of the Montclair Meeting, something that is important to me. I’ve never wanted to let that go.

Every day, for the past 20 years, Rose messaged me, either by liking something I wrote or by commenting on something on the blog. I felt close to her, she let go of our connection.

She never called me, and I never called her. It didn’t seem to matter.

I last heard of her a month ago, when she wrote to thank me, as she did once a year, for visiting David, she reminded me that I was trying to do a good way back then.

Rose was very special to me, and I felt her loss acutely, a stab in the heart.

But then I remembered the Quaker teachings about life and death. When David died, Rose showed me how to celebrate a life rather than mourn a death.

I know she would not care for me to grieve over her loss, she was a teacher and lived a full and meaningful life. She loved David very much, to the end of her life. She loved the Quaker Meeting.

She always told me in her messages that once you have a great love, you never lose it.

It stays with you.

I always knew Rose was watching over me, and staying with me, no matter what.

I will miss that. Tonight, I’ll go and sit out and watch a beautiful moon and celebrate her presence in my life. And give thanks for our friendship.