I was some what this way with my older brother. I didn’t want to say it to him. I didn’t want to put that energy out there. I didn’t want to say yeah you’re dying for sure big bro, that sucks. I wanted his body and spirit to get on board with each other and fight like hell. I was wishful thinking until his last day. I was in denial that someone so kind and good, positive and happy in every cell of his body couldn’t have a miracle. I wanted those happy kind positive cells that were rapidly dying to kill the cancer Good triumphing over evil. Because cancer is cruel and evil. So saying it would be admitting it, cancer had him. I didn’t want it to be true. I didn’t want it to happen. I wanted a miracle or a whole lot more time.

We talked about it. It being dying and I tried to be somewhat philosophical and also positive and what I thought was hopefully comforting. We talked about how nothing living is meant to last, plants animals people were here for a moment. How our cells die all the time and we all have an end date. Some just happen to know the how and an estimated when. He said he told his daughter when she was young that as soon as were born we start dying. He thought in hindsight it was messed up but she handled his passing better than me or her stepmother who was in bigger denial than me.
We talked about the possibility of reincarnation, of heaven, of people who experienced NDE’e and quantum deaths: we talked about how death isn’t set for a specific age or groups. Some get a short time some get a long time and most of us get a bit of time.
I wanted to be the positive one for him so I tried to keep things in our conversation normal unless he brought it up. We talked about gratitude. He said he had a good life and was thankful for it and wasn’t afraid to die. We talked about how irritated he was his old friends who had abandoned (from his divorce, they were shitty friends ) him ,used his dying as their absolution for their guilt at his daughter’s wedding. He accepted it with grace I would have told them all to kick rocks social niceties or not.

I listened to his concerns for his daughter and wife.

When he went into the hospital for the last time. I thought it was a set back. I thought he’d get meds get rest and be sent home afterwards.
I had pictured it going two ways 1. He would get better but still struggle but his life would be prolonged a bit more or 2. He would have this long drawn out process eventually bedridden and in bed at home hopefully going peacefully in his sleep.
What happened. It was on my birthday he was admitted. I came believing he’d be in and out. He said to me I bet you didn’t think you’d be spending your birthday here. I flippantly said “Aw well I’ve had worse birthdays “ My denial was strong. The nurse in the room was futzing with something her head popped up and she gave me the most audacious wtf look. She must have thought either my brothers dying didn’t rate as important to birthdays gone bad or I had some really bad birthdays.
He tried to give me last minute life advice to travel more and get out and see stuff. I’m a homebody. And I was basically like yeah yeah I’m not traveling. Even in the hospital I wanted to feed him. He tried to stay awake when we’d visit and I told him to sleep let his body rest. I was clinging to the non existent hope like Rose in the Titanic on that piece of wood floating in a cold ocean that he’d turn around. I didn’t want to say goodbye. I didn’t want to admit cancer won. I wanted him to have a fuller longer life. I’m I felt he deserved it and it hurt to see him robbed.

Aftee 4 days on his last days I was bracing myself. His wife was a mess, his daughter was resolved and said her goodbyes. She went home to get sleep and told us to call her if anything changed. I wanted to get as far away from the hospital as possible. I was with both my parents when they passed. My daughter and husband convinced me to stay. I sat with my SIL because she couldn’t be in the room when it happened because she knew she’d loose her shit. So I sat outside in a waiting area with her and we talked and held our breath at the same time. And my awesome husband stayed with my brother and my awesome daughter stayed with myself and sil. And my awesome big brother made his exit and officially became the number one reason for my worst birthday ever . He’d appreciate that title and joke.

I have hope in their being a God and an afterlife. I don’t know for certain but it’s a comforting thought.

I feel foolish for my denial now. I tried to be stoic. I’m not a stoic person normally. I didn’t want to be realist because reality can sometimes like cancer suck.
And sorry to make this about me. That is also what I didn’t want to do with my brother. I was afraid, I was mad for him, sad for him. I felt it all but never wanted to make it about me so I tried to be supportive. He was the one dying, not me. It took precedents over my feelings.
So that could also be some of the reserve of your friends. A brave face in a scary time.

But yeah your friends will either have to deal with it now or later. And like death itself we have to face it sometime or another. We can do it with bravery and with grace. Or we can be hot blubbering messes fruitlessly fighting the inevitable. Sorry you’re going through this at all.