Goodbye My Friend

Dear Theresa,

You were such a good person. You were a nurse for over 20 years. You took such good care of your patients. You always went to bat for them with a doctor if you didn't think he was doing the right thing. Even when your supervisor told you to apologize to that doctor you would refuse and stand by how you felt. All your co-workers loved you for that.

You raised two beautiful children. One son and one daughter. Your son was in Iraq teaching our troops how to stay alive when he got that call to come home.

Your eyes sparkling blue, always beaming with such a ready smile. That ready laugh so infectious it made people laugh with you. All gone. All still.

There was that fatefull day a few months ago when you got that awful news. You had lung cancer. You decided to go for the chemotherapy and the radiation treatments, as it was you had nothing to lose.

A couple of months after all was done, they retested you and gave you the news. The cancer had spread to your spine and brain. The time we thought we might have had with you was much shorter.

I went to your house almost every day after work. You were always ready with a quick bright smile and hello. You had lost all of your hair by this time, but heck. We all decided it gave you even more character if that was possible.

You never complained. You told me one day when it was just the two of us there that you were O.K. with this. That your faith in God was still strong and you were ready to go to him, even though you would have liked more time to see your grandchildren grow, after all you were only 51. Still young.

I remember telling you that I wasn't O.K. with this, but that didn't really matter because you were the one going through all this. I did not want to lose you. I loved you like a sister.

This last month, you were such a trooper. You were in so much pain. There was a time a week ago when you went to bed and was in so much pain that we had to double up on your pain killers. I would have bet that you weren't going to get out of that bed.

You proved me such a liar. When your mother told you that your son was coming home, you smiled and the next day you were out of bed and sitting on the couch. I couldn't believe it.

On one of those days, you said to me "I am so sick" I said I knew and caressed your head, wishing there was something I could do to give you more comfort. And you also said you had to hold on until your son got home. In my ignorance I told you it was only one more day. Of course you could hold on.

You decided yesterday morning to go to the doctor and see why you were having so much pain with your stomach. You were so very very sick.
They kept you on a hard, cold x-ray table for four hours. Earlier that morning you were so perky, by the time you came home, you were vomiting again and in so much pain.

Your son came in at ten that night. You opened your eyes and said "hello honey". You died at 4a.m. that morning. Those words to your son were the last you spoke. I can't even begin to tell you the void in my heart at losing you.

You were my friend, a mother, daughter, sister, aunt and grandmother. You were so much to so many.

I will continue to go to your house for a few more days. Until after they lay you to rest. Then all that will be left is an empty house and memories of you.

I loved you enough to want to see you out of pain. I am selfish enough to wish you were still
here, whole and carefree.

Good Bye my friend. The world's loss was surely heavens gain.