A Heavy Heart

Tonight I write with a heavy heart. Why does it seem like it takes a tragedy to really pause and realize how truly fragile life is?

One of my best friends that I grew up with is fighting for her life as we speak. She is standing next to me below at our high school graduation.

Back in my home state of Missouri, doctors are trying to force her heart to do its job amidst massive organ failure. The prognosis is bleak.

So, helplessly, I sit to write from afar while I watch the Facebook thread build and build with updates and prayers.

Sadly, I haven’t spoken to this friend in two years, since our last high school reunion. She is standing next to me in the black shirt.

But she was one of my very best childhood friends from my earliest memories through eighth grade. We literally grew up together. Played on the monkey bars and ran around the playground together. She is second from the left.

Had our first sleepovers and spent hours and hours at each other’s homes. Cheered for each other on softball, basketball, volleyball and track teams. And as literal cheerleaders. Shared our first crushes and first kiss stories.

She was effortlessly cool, hilariously funny, and oh so much fun.

As life went by, we grew apart, but I treasure those early special years. When life can be scary but was actually ever-so-simple. When George Michael’s Faith was scandalous because his butt was the album cover. When a great night was girlfriends and Doritos. Before we had really seen heartbreak.

She was brave and adventurous. A contrast to my follow-the-rules persona. I was the bold talker, but she was the behind-the-scenes fun maker. She was the first to love disgusting horror movies. As I covered my eyes, she would laugh in delight. She could rock the local roller rink.

She was one of the first to have a boyfriend. And no wonder. She was beautiful. With awesomely curly hair, naturally straight teeth, perfect eyes, and a lovely figure. She never went through the awkward phase that haunted some of us (ahem…me – see above photo with disastrous perm and braces). And she was smart, funny, and fun to be around.

We went to the same high school and had some good times together, but we were no longer inseparable, as happens. But I’ve always loved her. And while I haven’t lived in my hometown for over 20 years, the few times I have seen her at various reunions, she is the friend you pick right up with from where you left off. This was one of those reunions in 2009.

I am so sad I may not get to tell her these memories. And how much she has meant to me over the years.

And I’m so reminded of how precious life is. Truly. Each day. Each moment. I’m reminded that I must make the most of it. Because it is such a gift.

Tonight I’m going to hug my family a lot more closely. Keep sending prayers and waiting for updates. Cherish my memories of my friend. And hope for a miracle so I can tell her.

Update….it is now December 23 and despite a community praying and rallying for her, my sweet friend passed away last night. I find it so very hard to believe, how someone so full of life can simply be gone. She leaves four sons, a large family and a community that loved her. I will regret forever that I didn’t have the chance to really reminisce together and really know the more recent details of her life.

Time, space and responsibilities can make it hard to keep up with others, but my great lesson in losing her is to reach out to those I love. Have real conversations. Make memories together. Never wonder if they know – really know – how meaningful they have been to you. Life is short. Sometimes, far, far too unexpectedly short.