I don’t know how to help him.

When I think about calling a nurse, he begs, “Don’t go!”

And I realize this is another one of my defining moments.

So I kick off my shoes and crawl up next to Carey on the bed. I hold his hand. I tell him how much I love him. I tell him how proud I am of him. I apologize for not being a better friend. I tell him how I’ve always known that we would be friends until we were eighty and rocking away in our chairs on a porch somewhere.

Later, when he’s calm, I ask him about Afghanistan.

We talk all night, two friends getting to know each other again.

And it’s a beginning.