When I wake up in the morning and there’s no one sitting across the road I know something has happened. On the morning of February 20^th, it was one of those days.

I was first told my best friends 5 year old daughter died.. To say I was shocked is putting it mildly. My best friend, Adam, what was he going through, what was on his mind, that’s all I could think about as I continued onto the road to get food for my cats.

The next person I encountered was the bean seller, who was in tears asking me if I knew what had happened, who had died. She thought I didn’t understand, being speechless doesn’t mean I’m unaware. From where we were standing I could see a group of men behind Adams house burring Sanatu, said 5 year old.

I knew for the day Adam would be at his house. It’s customary, you stay in the house and people come by to greet, extend their condolences. When I made it over there was a group of men sitting outside Adams house, while there was a group of women sitting inside the compound.

As customary, I first greeted the elders, then the women as I made my way to Adams room to greet him. He was sitting on the floor with his head in his hands. I wanted to do nothing more than to hold him, to take his pain away. I wasn’t sure what to say. I am aware there is nothing I could have said to make him feel better.

Next I went in to greet his wife. When she entered she seemed so small and fragile. She is tiny, but she is normally so happy. Naturally I wasn’t expecting her to be her usual self, seeing her that way just struck me. With her as with Adam, or more so even, I had the distinct desire to just hold her. To let her cry. She sat in the darkest place she could and cried silently while people around her greeted and talked. I just wanted her to have the opportunity to cry, to release some of the sadness that was bearing down on her. To let some of the pain go, to not have to have a stoic face on this day of all days.

At multiple points throughout the day I would go to see Adam, just to sit with him. I had nothing to say, we’ve always been good at sitting without talking, this day was more so. He would respond if talked to but made no effort to start up interesting conversations. He would rest his head in his heads and look down. At one point he apologized to me for not going to my house in the morning, as if that was something he needed to apologize for.

When I would ask him if he ate, he would give out a small laugh and either say no or just say porridge. I’m sure the women of the compound are forcing him to eat, how much is hard to say. That first night I baked cookies; Adam will eat my baked goods but not my food. The next morning I went to his house with a small tupperwear of cookies, which were consumed in a matter of minutes. I received a half smile when I said I would go charge his and his wives dead phones and return with more cookies. I had explained in America when someone loses a loved one, it is customary for others to bring food or baked goods to the family; this seemed to be a custom worth appreciating.

It may not be much, but it seems I may have found a way I could help, or be comforting in this time.