Goodbye My Friend

My friend Rochelle died last night.

I'm really quite numb. She was 37. She had the flu. And then she was just gone.

I called her house tonight to talk to her husband and her 2 beautiful little girls. Her voice was on the machine.

I will never get to hear her laugh again. She had a great laugh. I will never get to share another secret with her. Never again will my family sit at dinner with her and her family. She won't be there to help me pass out cake at my next shindig. No more comments from her on my Facebook page, we'll never have that meet-up at the outlets we kept talking about. She was the kind of friend that, while we didn't talk every day, every week or even every month, it was always as if no time had passed at all when we did get in touch, something I consider the mark of a true friend.

A husband is left without his soul mate, 2 little girls without their mama. Here one day, gone the next, I can only begin to multiply what I feel by a thousand and then try to imagine that might be a tenth of how they are feeling right now.

And although she will never see this, I need to say it to her:

Rochelle, you and I were destined to be friends. Neighbors twice, it was my dream to be neighbors again some day. I can't believe you are gone. It is my absolute privilege to have been your friend. I will miss you terribly.

I promise that I will be here for your girls, to help the navigate the tough road ahead, not just now, but years from now: first loves, first dates, first heartbreaks and more. It isn't fair it can't be you and it isn't fair they have to learn at their young ages that life can be cruel. I will try my best to support Lance, to encourage him forward, to help him however he needs. I know he is and will remain lost without you. I will try to make sure he manages to find some joy amongst the sadness in his heart.

I will tell stories about you...how you knew I was pregnant by the look on my face when you said "what's up?", how we used to walk in circles around the neighborhood every night just chatting away, how we ended up as neighbors by accident the second time, how we went to Ikea and bought furniture together, how we had a door in our backyard fence so we could open it up and hang out in one giant backyard. I will tell the girls how you liked Starbucks and chocolate, how you gave me one of the best haircuts I ever had and how all you ever wanted for them was happiness and peace and love and family. I will tell them about violent Chinese food and the dinners we used to have together at the last minute. I'll tell them about the laughs we shared even in tough times, the tears we shared when things got worse and the laughter that inevitably came back and often started with you.

They will miss you. I will miss you. Together we will keep your memory alive. Goodbye, my friend. I love you.