My godmother will die today.

Rather, the woman who would have been my godmother will die today. Not being Catholic, she’s the closest thing I have to a godparent. Carol Johnson. We became friends in 1985 when she became a patient of my father’s. Somehow or other we connected – she had only one child, a daughter already grown, and longed for grandchildren she didn’t have. My grandparents were far away. We went out for ice cream at The Last Straw. Thus began a long and lasting friendship.

And today she is in the hospital, battling what will most likely be her last cancer – I don’t know the entire roll call, but it has included both breast and brain cancer in the 18 years I’ve known her. By her side is Roger, her husband of 55 years – we share the same wedding day – and her daughter, recently returned. Roger and Carol’s marriage has been such an inspiration to me – they’ve traveled the world together, had all sorts of interesting adventures, and when her health failed, he was there. When she had to learn to walk again, he danced with her in the kitchen. I’ve been reading John Bayley’s Iris and her Friends and Roger and Carol have been on my mind.

And now she’s passing. And I don’t know if I can go. I can go – I have time – but I don’t know if I can.

And in light of all this, it seems very selfish to still be excited about seeing Pigface tonight.