So Long Friend

I last saw Eric a couple of years ago at a reunion of our tight little group that had worked together on the children's unit at Lakeshore Psychiatric Hospital well over thirty years ago. Working there was tough and the adverse conditions had drawn us together, much like soldiers in wartime.
I was pleasantly surprised that most of us looked much as we had all those years ago although the hippie apparel was long discarded. Eric, everyone's best friend, came with his guitar and his bottle of rye and we got drunk and we sang and, for that moment, it was like nothing had changed much. He was the last one to hug me and wish me well when I left and he meant it. We had a good time and, somewhere in the back of my mind, I thought we'd do it again. If we do, Eric won't be with us. My buddy, Jorja, just told me that he died. I believed her but still had to Google his obit to make sure it was true. It was.
Old friends are best friends, even when you don't hear from them for years at a time. I'm sorry I won't get to see him again.