When I was young, I would hear my elder friends say, “My circle of friends is getting smaller.” The words passed right over me, without my listening or understanding. Now that I am 83, I am in the midst of living those words. The recent death of my soulmate, friend and “sister” of 53 years, Lucille, has made me face the reality of my mortality.

Our friendship blossomed in 1970, when Lucille’s daughter Michelle was in the same first-grade class as my daughter Cathy. The teacher asked Cathy to help Michelle learn the routines and to be her friend. She said, “Your dads both teach at the university.” Lucille and I met because of our daughters. The rest is history.

It has become a three-generation friendship; our daughters and granddaughters are best friends and Lucille’s first great-grandchild, Maya Michelle, will keep our love and friendship blooming for many years. My granddaughter Annie is marrying Michelle’s nephew Evan in August. “We are family!”

I think we decided the only thing we liked the same was black coffee. Our friendship’s foundation was built on sharing our deep faith, compassion, love, loyalty, honesty and respect for each other. I have a smile on my face and joy in my heart and soul, thinking of all our wonderful memories over 53 years.

I am laughing as I write this. In our 70s, Lucille and I took the training to volunteer at Hospice of Southern Maine. One of the requirements was to take a TB test. We went to get our test and filled out all the forms. The nurse came out with a smile on her face and asked, “Are both of you pregnant?” I had accidentally checked “yes” and Lucille copied my application. We had tears in our eyes from laughing so hard.

At the luncheon after her funeral, Lucille’s grandchildren shared stories about their grandmother. Many years ago, when Borders was around, she parked her car across a space instead of pulling into it and went into the store. When she returned to her car, a man was standing there and asked, “Who would park their car that way?” She smiled and agreed with him and went back into the store until he had left. Lucille could laugh at herself and find humor in many challenges.

Time is fleeting and the years and days fly by so quickly. There was a quote I heard when I was volunteering at Southern Maine Hospice: “It is always too soon before it is too late!” These are words I try to live by in my daily journey of life.

How do I and others who are aging survive these losses and changes all around us? I wish I had a crystal ball to give us the answers. I can only speak for myself. I try to face each challenge with objectivity and courage, I treasure my independence, treasure my family, friends and faith in the Holy Spirit. As we all know, our lives can change in an instant and everything we held sacred is gone.

So, “my circle of friends is getting smaller.” Lucille’s death is an indescribable loss for me. But we will always be together in spirit and love.

When I told a social worker at Gosnell House the story of our friendship, she asked me if I knew the song by Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton, “You Can’t Make Old Friends.” As Lucille’s daughter Lori said, you can’t make old friends … because they turn into family.

How we each face today is our choice. I will continue to be my best Lucille, living in gratitude, thanksgiving and hope.

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