This was his last Christmas. They’ve been telling him that for years, about 7 years in fact, since his sophomore year of college. This time, though, he knows it’s true. I don’t really know what I can say to this 26 year old who I probably wouldn’t even still be in touch with if he didn’t have a brain tumor.  “Hey, how’s dying going?” I’m trying to call him every couple of days – it’s the least I can do, he’s too far away to visit.  Some days when I call him he is in good spirits, and some days he’s really down.  And I don’t really know what I…