The Devil’s Gift has 475 subscribers. Last Sunday one unsubscribed. That happens. Infrequently, but it does. Some subscribers give a reason. This one gave none.
I usually don’t contact “unsubscribers.” But this subscriber happened to track as a frequent reader. She was also a friend. And she left comments—always positive.
In other words, this subscriber was happily engaged with my blog.
Why, then, would she UNSUBSCRIBE?
I emailed her.
Sorry to see you go. But before you do, I want to be sure this was intentional and not an accidental slip of the finger as has happened before with others.
If you meant to unsubscribe, please (if you don’t mind) tell me why.
Blessings to you on this All Saint’s Day (Nov. 1).
She replied that evening.
Thanks for your note. It’s not by choice that I unsubscribed to The Devil’s Gift. I am currently receiving in-home hospice care to “keep me comfortable” during the end stages of cancer. It doesn’t look like I’ll be reading anything in 2027.
I’ve had the best of lives and I’m certainly glad our paths crossed when they did.
Stay healthy. Wishing you and your family all the best.
That sucks!
Our paths first crossed 30-some years ago. We became friends. We saw each other fairly often. And then she and her husband moved.
I lost touch. Come to think of it, I’ve lost touch with many other friends who’ve slipped into obscurity.
That sucks too!
Now and then, however, we get a chance to touch our friends one last time.
I wrote back.
This news is hard to absorb. Paula and I are in a state of shock and sadness. You’ve been a good friend to us over many years. You’ve brought love and light to many.
May you be blessed with comfort, courage, and companions as you pass through this valley. Life is hard. But grace abounds. Somehow.
May the light of love enfold you.
She replied.
Thank you.
I didn’t know that my friend was facing imminent death. I might not ever have known until news of her passing reached me. But she found a way—intentionally or serendipitously—to give me a chance to say goodbye: she unsubscribed.
A final act of friendship.
Wherever you fare, my friend, may you fare well.
Your blog brought me close to tears. Thank you for sharing this poignant piece. The gift of friendship is a sacred one. Words cannot fully capture its deep meaning and value. Life is fragile and must be handled with care. In a world filled with frequent disdain and indifference, friendship lightens the load. Perhaps the words of Eleanor Roosevelt say it best: “Many people walk in and out of your life, but only true friends will leave footprints in your heart.”
So this post of yours brought tears to my eyes this Sunday morning. Because of this, I shall contact people who unsubscribe. How sad, yet how precious, that you learned this and had a chance to say something to her about her life and say goodbye.
This reminds us to perhaps reach out to those we may have left to drift away saying “0h I will call , text, email, write tomorrow.” Sometimes those tomorrows do not come. Good to reach out before those unsubscribes ( deliberate or not) occur. Grace to your friend.
Just last night I thought of an old friend- he’s a few years older than me (and you) so the moniker “old” fits. Haven’t seen or spoken to him in 50+ years. Did an internet search and found a comment from him dated October, 2026. I sent him an email. We’ll see.
This was a stunning screed. Something so personal, yet we’ve all had this happen at one time or another. Often we have notions how our end days will go. That is if we have time to come to terms with it. However, seldom does dying work out the way we’ve planned. Our big animal brains construct the way we want it to be. Life and death have other ideas. I for one would want my close friends and family close around me. Nonetheless, goodbyes are seldom ever the way we planned them and how we would like them to unfold. So even death, our final act, requires us, once again, to “go with the flow.” It is what it is. We actually control little in life. Mostly what we do is roll with it. As George Harrison sang so many years ago, “Life flows on, within us and without us.
…and then this appeared on my Facebook feed…
Thank you once again, Randy… kindness & reaching out – blessed are we – connections are sacred gifts… & in our connections, we are lifted up in our sorrows, as well as in our joys. In this Sacred Web of life, you are a weaver. So grateful for your tender, poignant stories🙏
One of the saddest part of aging is watching folks you love pass on. Friends, family, nuclear family, friends closer than family. Its not just the shock of loss; some of us grieve the loss of fun we had or the experiences we had.
It is all the circle that rolls round and round spinning life creation….
It is the price of survival. .
What a precious, heart-wrenching, loving type of sharing. Randy – your words above reached my core. We never truly know when friends are coming to life’s end. How brave and loving of her and of you. Thank you for sharing (and giving us a nudge to reach out to those we haven’t heard from in a while).