I do not want to write this post. Writing it makes it true. And I do not want it to be true.
I did not want to write this, yet I could not write anything else, until I wrote it. Which is why my blog has been silent for so many days. I did not want to write the words that would make it real.
My dear friend, Taube, passed away last Tuesday night.
Her funeral was on Wednesday, at the same time as I was scheduled for my PET scan. There was no way I could attend. Maybe that was God's way of protecting me.
Though I met Taube because of our cancers, we discovered connections that go back to our childhood. We grew up a block away from each other, our brothers were in school together, our mothers knew each other, we were in the same youth group, and we attended the same college/university. Our common past, combined with our common present, formed a strong bond between us.
Taube began her journey into the cancer world about a year before I did, so she provided a tremendous amount of support and insight for me. Whenever I felt lost, I called Taube, and she guided me with patience and wisdom.
I was privileged to be a guest in her home on several occasions and got to know her kids a bit as well. To say that her family is impressive, is an understatement. I cannot adequately describe the harmony I felt in her home.
Mostly, we talked on the phone. We talked about cancer, parenting, religion, faith. You name it, we talked about it.
Even as her health deteriorated, I did not believe that her situation would not turn itself around. She had a very rare form of bone cancer and had been in a not-so-good place before. I felt sure the doctors could bring her around again.
Taube was poised, smart, private, perceptive, and giving. She managed to keep working, despite her pain and limitations. She inspired me to be strong and to live my life, despite the cancer.
When I felt darkness closing in on me, Taube helped me through it.
I did not realize how quickly her own darkness was closing in on her.
When Taube stopped calling me, I assumed she must be busy.
When she stopped returning my calls, I started to worry. Still, I assumed she must be busy.
She was busy. I had no idea....
By the time I realized how serious things were, Taube no longer felt strong enough for visitors.
I did not have a chance to say good bye.
Had I the chance, what would I have said?
A friend wisely advised me to write Taube a letter, which I did. Taube's husband read the letter to her.
In the letter, I let Taube know how much I valued her friendship and appreciated all her advice, support, and love.
I will miss her more than I can describe.
May her memory be a blessing.
יהי זיכרה ברוך
Please daven (or send happy, healing thoughts) for RivkA bat Teirtzel.
With love and optimism,
will the end of work mean the end of terror?
5 hours ago