“From the day we arrive on the planet
And blinking, step into the sun
There’s more to be seen than can ever be seen
More to do than can ever be done.”
(Lyrics from “The Circle of Life” by Tim Rice and Elton John)
We have heard it said, and maybe said it ourselves, that God (Great Spirit, Life, or such other moniker based on your belief system) never gives us more than we can handle. While I know personally I have doubted and even questioned this concept, the month of June has shown me that my doubt and second-guessing are unwarranted. Indeed, I am now convinced that God does not give us more than we can handle in our lives at any one time.
Change is Only a Breath Away
The year 2014 dawned with the intellectual knowledge that both a beloved mentor and my best friend were battling that horrible “C” word – cancer. One was confirmed terminal, but the other was supposedly in remission.
As the month of February began and we in Northern California enjoyed what was said to be unseasonably warm weather, my mentor’s days on this plane in his then physical form became numbered. By the end of the month, his struggle ended, and he was free from the cancer and the incapacitated body that accompanied it. His spirit was finally able to soar, and his soul was released back to the universe. His Irish mirth could once again shine like the light in his engaging blue eyes.
The year progressed with the belief, albeit one that proved to be mistaken, that my best friend was indeed in remission. She worked to get her “house,” literally and figuratively, in order. We believed she was preparing for the next phase of her time here on earth…her much deserved retirement. But remember, lurking in the background is still the fact that she is a cancer survivor, and circumstances can change in the blink of an eye where it is concerned.
In April, with the sun shining on the Pacific Ocean, we met for brunch at a popular restaurant in Sausalito. My best friend looked radiant. She was moving better than I had seen her move since Christmas. Her lymphedema was in check, and her face glowed. She was making progress on readying her house for sale, and she had even had the stamina to go shopping. Turns out we both had the same idea that Sunday. We had both gone shopping for a special something for our dearest friend. Mine to her was a Vikki Reed Mandala entitled “Embrace What Is.” Her gift to me was a statuette that told the story of Soul Sisters. We enjoyed our brunch, gazing out over the ocean and sharing remembrances of times past and futures anticipated.
From Ashes to Eternal Understanding
A mere three weeks later, my best friend’s life was forever changed. Her lymphedema returned with a vengeance, and an array of new and frightening symptoms and conditions accompanied it.
I made several trips to her home trying to offer encouragement and strength, while at the same time helping wherever possible with the everyday tasks the healthy take for granted. But each day I lived with the fear that this battle may be coming to an end sooner, certainly, than I anticipated, and than she wanted. Each day I dreaded I would receive the call, text or email that quipped, “It’s time.”
One of those gut-wrenching calls came just before I was to leave on a trip. Her words did not come as a surprise to me. She had told me when her battle first began two and a half years earlier that she would fight as long as she could, but when she was done fighting, she was done. Nonetheless, hearing those words for real was difficult to accept. I prayed that her time remaining would be peaceful and pain-free and that we would have time together to put closure to a 30-plus year friendship.
But God had other plans. Her remaining time proved to be both extremely short and difficult. I made it back from my trip and to her bedside, but instead of being able to reminisce with her, sharing our lives’ many experiences together, I was met with a much different reality. And it was a reality that challenged my belief system to the core.
Many of you may now be asking what kind of friend will I be when my best friend, or someone very close to me, is afflicted and needs comfort and love? You may be wondering if you will have the intestinal and emotional fortitude to spend hours and then days and nights at their bedside, recalling experiences shared and offering comforting words and gestures – holding a hand, kissing a forehead or a cheek, stroking their face or rubbing their head, anything to let them know “I’m here my friend and it’s ok; I will be with you until the end.”
We are all different, and we offer our support in many and varied ways. And how we do so is grounded in God’s plan for each of us. Whether you come that one last time, because you simply cannot stay away for reasons intellectually incomprehensible to you, or whether you are there every minute, stroking, kissing, sharing, whispering words of peace and comfort; you are doing just what you are supposed to be doing.
The Circle of Life
A mere seven days before my dearest friend of 30-plus years, my Soul Sister, passed into her next life’s chapter, I was in New York City sitting in the audience watching the Broadway production of The Lion King with two beautiful young women just starting their adult lives at 18. While I didn’t know it then, the lyrics from The Lion King’s “The Circle of Life” will forever have profound meaning for me when it comes to the final chapter with my best friend.
“There’s far too much to take in here
More to find than can ever be found
But the sun rolling high through the sapphire sky
Keeps great and small on the endless round.”
My best friend lost her battle with cancer. But my faith tells me that her life was meaningful and her death part of the grand plan.
May eternal Light shine upon my Soul Sister and my mentor, and may they rest in peace.
Until we meet again…I love you!