A friend of mine, who I met in 1st grade, was involved in a car accident that left him in a coma for 3 weeks. He was 18 when it happened. He suffered numerous fractures, had a couple skingrafts, but most importantly, he suffered brain damage. He lost a good portion of his mobility, he had double vision, and his speech was a little slurred. He was left incapable of being on his own, due not only to those issues (unable to drive, hold pretty much any job), but the risk of him suffering a seizure was also greater than 0%.
I had fallen out of touch with him in high school - we traveled in different circles by that point. I was in basketball/baseball and fairly introverted/

the world mode, and he was a Star Wars/comics/metalcore guy. He was essentially in on whatever trend before it became cool. Anyway, the brain damage messed with his memory, and I was one of the few people he remembered. So I'd hang out with him. Most of the time, we'd just go to starbucks and chat while he had coffee. Other times I'd hang with him at his parents' house and listen to music. Every couple of months we'd go to a show and I'd suffer through breakdown after chugga chugga breakdown, always making sure some faggot didn't try to jump kick him in the face. I went with him for something like 6 or 7 of his tattoos as well.
Over the last couple of years, I started seeing him less frequently. It would be more accurate to say I was avoiding him. Part of it was because
I would feel bad after visiting with him. For him, since no matter how positive his outlook (and it was always positive), his life was simply never going to return to normal. For his parents, since they never would be able to see their son become an adult and start his own life, let alone having to take care of him as if he were a child for the rest of his life.
I texted him on his 30th birthday last month. 'You're getting old, bro.' It was the first time I'd said anything to him in about six months. I ran into his mother at the start of December, and was informed that he'd had a seizure, and just came home from staying in the hospital. He suffered another seizure this week. He died yesterday.
'You're getting old, bro.' is the last thing I ever said to him.