Saturday evening, Colette passed away, and I happened to be her visiting teacher. In some ways her death was expected--she was on a liver transplant list--but it came as a complete shock. One of the things that I find most troubling though is that I feel like I want to tell my friends and family about this tragedy, but too often that seems to focus attention on me. And maybe writing about this here does the same thing, but I hope anyone reading this will forgive this self-indulgence.

I didn't know Colette very well. Most of the time she was hard to get in touch with and she missed both appointments I did set up with her. But occassionally I'd talk to her on the phone. She was always so open and willing to talk. Recently I called, just after she had had surgery, to see how she was doing. She was sick and throwing up even while she was on the phone, but I never got the idea that she didn't want to talk to me. I don't think it was me personally, but that was just her nature. Maybe we had very little in common, but she never made me feel that way.