Dear
Danielle,
one of the
best decisions I’ve made is to come back home to visit you.
That first
morning, as I walked out of the hospice doors, into the bright, fall sunshine,
I said “Thank you God”. Those almost 2
hours, spent laughing, talking and crying with you were worth more than
anything. I was so glad that I had
come.
The time
spent sitting by your bed; your voice and spirit as strong as ever…unchanging
and wonderful, with your big-ass painting that you just bought staring at us, I
loved hearing more about your life and your experiences. So many excellent adventures…living in a
London hostel for a year while working in a cool pub; moving to Montreal to
brush up your French skills; training and travelling to run in half marathons
or were they full? And, taking advantage of new career opportunities to
challenge yourself and to learn. You
inspire me to keep doing and trying new things.
Stretch, learn, try. Why
not?
Two years
ago we were both standing before new, exciting adventures. You were ready to move to Asia and I to
Germany…well, maybe ‘ready’ is a stretch.
We talked a lot about our fears, our excitement, our worries; we
supported and encouraged each other and then…then you received the shocking
news. I went, you had to stay.
And now, since
your email in August, telling me the docs think you have little time left, I
have been consumed with thoughts of you.
How does one process that kind of information? I have been going over and over in my mind
the thought: Why do we wait until
someone’s funeral to talk about why they are special to us? What they mean to
us? And, how they are touching our lives?
I think there should be a global revolution to change this. I really do.
You are a
treasured friend to me and, I know, to many others. Your strength and fight and fearlessness in
doing has inspired me since we met over ten years ago. You don’t hold back; you say what you think
and you work hard; whether in your job, in your treatment, in your play or in
your house renos. You keep going and
doing and you get things done. Of
course, you create some shit along the way, with your no-holding-back ‘tude. But, that’s who you are and the fact that you
apologize when you need to and not when you don’t need to…I think that’s strength
and perseverance and being true to yourself.
I honestly wish I was more like that.
We have
always connected over coffee or drinks…bonding over the crazies who we used to
work with and the crazies who we call family.
Especially our mothers. For a
while there I was convinced we had the same one, until mine died. Then it was obvious that they were not the
same woman. I remember so many great,
long talks. Thank you for those, and for
these latest ones.
Moments
from a visit:
Laughing with
you about your new, blinged out style…your new Michael Kors watch, iphone 5,
Coach bag and how fab you feel walking down the hall with your new, fun
things. Love it.
Telling me
how you are basically forcing your family to deal with all the issues that have
plagued you all for 25 years; not pulling any punches, having no patience, but
making sure that your fam members heal and become better people. You care.
You’re strong.
Talking
about the great things at this time; how blessed you feel for…excellent sister
time which you three have never had before this summer; your brother coming and
hanging out, taking care of you; and your treasured, strong friends who are doing
all for you.
I love
talking with you. And your emails of
support which you regularly sent, since I moved from Calgary five years ago;
whenever you thought I sounded lonely or sad or frustrated helped me to think
more positively and to try harder.
Thank you
for being a steadfast and true friend to me, girl. I appreciate you very much in my life and I
wish so much that you could stay longer.
I love you,
Nina
