We knew he was depressed. We knew he was avoiding our calls and making excuses, but we really thought he was living his life the way he wanted. Or maybe we made ourselves believe that. He was drinking a lot more, becoming more of a recluse and somewhat ornery for a middle-aged man. But living out of state and 8 hours away, it was getting harder and harder to visually check on him.

So when the call came from his brother telling us that our friend had lit himself on fire and was in a critical care burn unit, we all said "we shoulda - coulda - woulda." Those thoughts came too late. Our actions, also too late.

We dropped everything and drove a long distance to the burn unit where we donned the gloves and masks and went to say good-bye. He cried. We cried. I told him, with all sincerity, that it was a pleasure to have had him as my friend.

It is always excruciatingly difficult to say good-bye. I was lucky (really? lucky?) scratch that - I was able to say good-bye to my mother and one sibling, but my father and two other siblings died suddenly.

Three days later, our friend died.

I hope he has finally found peace.

I have holes in my heart. I don't know how to fill them. I am the last one standing in my family. It's an empty feeling.