My Friend

My friend,

We didn’t start our friendship with small talk over coffee, or cheering for our children together in the bleachers. There was no shopping trips and backyard BBQs, recipe swapping or lunch dates. Not even carpooling or Christmas gifts. Our beginning was not gentle or easy.

You knew the deepest and darkest parts of me before I knew your last name. I held you as your body shook with sobs before I even knew your profession. We revealed the ugliest parts of ourselves before we exchanged the beautiful stories that intertwined with the pain of our lives. The vulnerability we shared was instant and there was never a moment of doubt that this trust had been misplaced. And even when the words couldn’t form it didn’t stop us from being able to communicate. I always felt heard with you.

Our relationship was founded on the things that most people strive a lifetime to build with someone. We did things backwards and nontraditionally. Yet you became like home to me, and my boys. I cherished the authentic, honest, and even raw ways that we could interact. 

You inspired me with the vibrancy in which you lived every detail of your life. 

Like countless others, I was a recipient of the compassion that poured out of you like the exhaling of your breath. 

And I witnessed you fight valiantly for each moment of every day. 

You have left your mark on me and I will never stop missing you. Some might not understand that you didn’t give up. Like a terminally ill patient you gave everything that you had until the pain was too much. Until your capacity had reached it’s limit. And I need you to know that I believe that. I need you to know that I am not upset with you. I need you to know that I take great comfort in knowing that you will never have to know pain again my sweet friend.

And I also need you to know that it was you that gave me hope after I lost Colin. Because you are proof that I get more than one soul mate.


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