I've commented on the links between birth and death before, but here's a new one. Getting the news that my best friend had gone into labor was oddly reminiscent of the night my father died. As on that night, my husband was out of town and I was feeling wildly emotional. I was looking through my photo albums and reliving all the things PBF and I have been through together. I have one whole album devoted to our trips to the goth clubs of San Francisco. And because our fields overlap, we've traveled together to conferences many times--Canada, Spain, Poland, Italy, various places in the US... I met my husband at her wedding. (The photo below is from the wedding--there happened to be a black and white photo booth in the place where she got married. I figure it's overexposed enough that no one could possibly recognize her [on the left], but if you happen to know her, um...don't rat me out.) A few years later, her husband was the officiant at my wedding.
When my father died, I also felt happiness. He'd been suffering, and I was able to feel joy in the thought of his release, and in the recollection of his amazing life. I bet there's a lot of joy to come if I can accept this change and adapt to my new role. I'm just a bit broken at the moment.