At the end of the year 2001 I met a woman that forever changed my life. She was my biggest support during my son's pregnancy when things were not going well. She was there through my separation from my husband and my divorce. I never felt alone, and I always knew she was near. She is much older than me but when we are together the age gap dissipates and we are just two woman. Sometimes she says I am like her daughter, but I have never seen her as such. She is more like a big sister, a wonderful one. We misbehaved together, we guard each other's secret, we push each other to do better, we have each other's back, no matter what. She is one of those woman that you could say was born in a sunny day, because she's always in a great mood. Her personality is always bigger than the space she is in. She hates to be ignored, and I wonder, who can ignore her vibrant personality? We have been together in good times, great times, sad times and very low points of each other's lives. Our relationship is strong. It is one of those relationships in which you are allowed to be who we are. We don't have to pretend, we are free.
She is always been an open bragging book for her two children- a boy and a girl. I love to hear her stories, because I learned from them and above all because she is a great story teller. She has always been there for her kids- when she was proud and when she wasn't. Her love for them is unconditional.
Recently I saw my friend in the saddest mood I have ever seen her. She was at her lowest point. Her pain was unimaginable for me. She was experiencing the biggest pain a woman could ever experience. My friend lost her boy. That young man that made her eyes twinkle, and her heart skip a beat, the one who made the best sandwiches, the one that made her laugh, the one that gave her her first grand kids, the one that shook her world, and kept her on her toes.
At the funeral she spoke about him, and that was such a healing moment. It was powerful to hear a mother talking about her son in such a profound way. He looked as peaceful as he always was, like he was in a deep sleep. I wish I could have awaken him, and give my friend one more day with her loving son. I wish he had the chance to say "I love you ma'" like he always did. I was there, near her all the way until the final good bye. She needed me, and I needed her her. We cried together, we reminisced. I needed to know that she was going to be OK.
I have to say that I was horrified at people's curiosity and how insensitive some of the comments and questions were- "was it a suicide?", how did he died?, "was it a drug overdose?". I never had to ask her, because I don't need to know that. Her pain isn't based on the cause of death. What I know is that my friend is in pain and if she wants me to know she will tell me, but she knows she doesn't have to. Seeing her in so much pain brought me back to a book that I read about grieving, and the specific quote said, "My sorrow is so wide/ I cannot see across it;/ And so deep I shall never/ Reach the bottom of it". I know that she will agree with that poem from Rexroth.
Her son was never alone, and she will never be...because she has me. From my friend I learned how to be a better mother, a better woman, a better professional, a better friend and just a better person.
I know that she will be OK, because she is such a strong force and because of all the people that loves her. We are in this difficult journey together.
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