Have you ever had that experience where you really connect with someone you just met? You may have lots in common or nothing in common. But there is just something. I had this experience a few months ago when I interviewed Dr. Mark Goulston for my podcast The Final Say: Conversations with People Facing Death. We connected like old friends.

He was a psychiatrist, an author, a death and dying specialist, so we had that in common. But that doesn’t totally explain it. Early on in the conversation he said, “I thought I would like you, but I really like you.”

That’s nice to hear at the beginning of an interview and to be honest I was somewhat skeptical and thought, he’s trying to butter me up. So I quietly said, “Thank you.”

We talked about his diagnosis: lymphoma, his future treatment: bone marrow transplant, his chances: slim. Surprisingly, as a death and dying specialist, it was difficult for him to talk about his own death. I pushed him on it. I’m telling you all this because I don’t want you to think the whole conversation was hearts and flowers. It got sticky, awkward, messy—and yet the connection remained.

By the end of the hour he was saying if he had known I was in Seattle, he would have come to the Fred Hutch instead of Cedars Sinai in Los Angeles where he lives.

And I was agreeing! I responded, “I could go see you! It would be easy. It’d be a cinch. But at least we’re on the same coast, which I think is a huge deal. You can call me anytime because I’m on your time!” He assured me we would stay in touch and he would have me as a guest on his podcast.

You know those times where you just can’t seem to hang up? I haven’t had many of those moments for a long time. It often feels as if I’m trying to get off a call to move on to the next thing. But this time it was different. “All right,” I said, “It’s hard for me to hang up. Gosh!”

He said, “We will be in touch because of what you’re doing, where you’ve worked. We’re going to stay in touch. Okay, good. Okay, my friend, to be continued.”

I finished editing Mark’s episode, and I decided it would be fun to wait and post it on New Year’s Eve, you know, the very last day of 2023. He had gone in for his bone marrow transplant, maybe a week before, and we’d been texting back and forth. So on New Year’s Eve, I texted him, “Here’s a link to your episode!” A couple hours go by and then I receive a text from him, but it’s not from him.

It reads, “Thank you so much for your messages. This is Billy Goulston, Mark’s son. Sadly, my dad passed away yesterday due to an unexpected infection during his recovery from his bone marrow transplant. I am so sorry I have to tell you this and to do so on New Year’s Eve. But I know my dad cared deeply about his connection with you and would have wanted you to know. Though we do not know much more than the above, if you have any questions, my mom and I can be reached. Warmest regards, Billy.”

Wait, what? We were just texting a couple days ago! I was numb with disbelief.  Now I knew the statistics for a bone marrow transplant for a man of 75. I knew that they weren’t good. And I’ve worked in oncology long enough to know that things happen. And yet—

I know the rules. I’ve been doing this podcast for two years, and the rules are every guest I have on is facing impending death. I know that, and yet—

Our last words were,

Mark: We’ll continue the party.

Me: Okay, all right. So, mwah! I’ll talk to you soon.

Mark: I look forward to it. Take care.

Me: All right, you too. Bye -bye.

At first I couldn’t put my finger on why I was so devastated by this news. And I think it was because of this promise of future friendship that I’d really never had with any of my guests. But isn’t that the same promise we have with all of our friends and family, when the truth is that all we really have is right now?

So I made a special episode and am writing this post as a reminder not only to myself but to all of us that life is precarious and we can’t waste a moment not forgiving someone or not telling them that we love them. We can’t put off writing that thank you note or making that call thinking that we’ll always have later, because really, we can’t be certain there will be a later.

At the end of the conversation, Mark said, “Win, lose, or die, I’m good to go.” I trust he meant it.