As the moon wanes on its path to meet its destination with the sun for a solar eclipse, my dear friend, Carol, marks time, one rattling breath after another. Last night, she told her husband to take the mask off, a mask to the C-pap machine that was ensuring that her breath would keep her alive. She was done. She was ready to accept that she would only have a little more time before she would take her last breath. I don’t know what it takes to make that decision, but I admire the clarity of her message, the courage of her choice.
I met Carol about 20 years ago. I had given a presentation at a professional organization, which she attended. After the meeting, she walked up to me and said, “I want to be your friend.” Simple, direct, bold. That was Carol. I said yes, and our friendship began. She knows my stories, my insecurities, and my secrets. I have trusted her that much.
It’s been a long struggle for Carol, who was diagnosed with ovarian cancer three years ago. I love her even more as her end is close. My memories of her seem more precious now, impossible to take for granted. My heart feels full; my body tired. I don’t know if it’s my least or favorite time of living. I hate saying good-bye, and yet feel more present, more in contact with the people with whom I had been sharing a vigil, more sensitive to all the nuances of being together, that I can’t think of anyplace else in the world that I would rather be.
As of this writing, Carol is still holding onto life. It’s a mysterious time and space between here and there, a decision to let go that most of us fight our entire time on earth to avoid.
Dear friend, as your journey on this earth is drawing to a close, I hold you in my heart and prayers. When it’s my time to go home, come help guide me through. I trust you will. See you on the other side. Love you. Jozeffa
Just seeing this now a year later, what moving words written only hours before Mom took her last breath with you as sole witness. To find a friend like you, we should all be so lucky. Love you J xxo.
Thank you Susan. Because of your comment, I decided to read what I had written a year ago. It brings back so many memories of your mom, my friend. I love you, too. Blessings, Jozeffa
Reading this I am jettisoned back to Carol’s memorial service and the sweetness of love and memories that were shared. Moondance is playing in my head and tears are streaming down my cheeks, then and now. Yes, to know Carol was to experience deep friendship and caring – such an honor. I am so grateful for my many lunches at Fox and Goose over the years sharing our hearts and learnings. Sending love and hugs to both you and Susan, Maureen aka Mo