I Miss Her

I miss her.

I miss her smile and her laugh.

I miss her sunny personality and her chatter.

I miss her concern and her thoughtfulness.

I miss her.

It’s been so long since I’ve seen her. I drive past her house and pause, saying a prayer that all is well; wishing things were different; hoping for good news.

Life changes in an instant. How often do we hear that phrase? How often do we repeat those words to our children, to ourselves? How often do we say that this time, we will listen and appreciate our lives? How often do we forget?

Such a little thing, that cough, barely noticeable to those around her. Allergies? A lingering cold? Nothing more serious. It couldn’t be.

Cancer? No! She’s too young. She’s got three children who need her. She’s just started back to school – a new career, a new start. Cancer? Really?

Radiation. Yes.

Surgery. Okay.

Chemo? Whatever helps.

Problems? Complications?

What can we do to help? Dinners. Carpools. Prayers. Anything.

How is she doing? I’ve asked that question countless time over these past few months.

Is there anything I can do? Another question posed over and over again to anyone who will listen.

It’s such a helpless feeling – seeing your friend so sick and not being able to do anything; not being able to do enough.

I’ve cooked dinners, written notes, sent texts, dropped off little gifts. I’ve said prayers, offered intentions, added her to prayer lists.

I feel lost. I feel powerless. I feel frustrated.

Then I feel guilty. It’s not about me, after all, it’s about her. It’s about her family. It’s not about me.

So I keep on praying. And I keep on asking for her. And I keep on sending those texts and dinners and notes.

I keep on. Just like I hope she is keeping on. For with life, there is hope.

God Bless you my friend. I miss you.