It's been a bit since I felt like writing. The loss of my dear friend to cancer hit me hard. But sometimes, what seems to be the harshness of life also has its flip side. For me, it was the shocking realization that I am not immortal. I think we all understand that we don't get to stay here forever, but there is also the thoughts of, I'll do it tomorrow, next week, next year ... there is time. As I paused my life to grieve and go through that whole process of losing someone very dear, I finally walked through to open the final gift my friend gave me.
To back track a bit, it was one of those beautiful summer days. Bright sun, a beautiful blue sky scattered with just the right amount of puffy clouds and a soft, cool breeze in the shade. I had driven out to see my friend for our 'girlfriend' time. We talked about so many things - and for hours. Our beautiful children, friends we loved like family, and my friend started to speak of her regrets. She did not have many. Really only one. She regretted not doing some things right away, procrastinated with many a good reason at times, but none the less, plans did not get fulfilled.
My friend, which is why I loved her, was a very direct person and did not mince words. She sat, took my hand and looked me right in the eyes and said, "Sue, if there is shit you want to do just 'effing go do it! Don't wait, you might not get to do it tomorrow!" At the time I sort of chalked it up to chemo depression and I asked what she wanted to go do. And, of course, she had a list. So, we planned to make several road trips after the chemo effects were done. I never realized that day that it would be the last for our one on one time. Shortly after she physically declined and our visits were short with caregivers and family tending to her needs and the grogginess of pain medication.
A few days after her services, my son and I left to go visit my sister in Colorado. A trip that had been postponed for quite a long time. I took my friends photo with me, I showed her the wolves in a sanctuary we visited, the mountains, and the cloudy top of Pikes Peak. While there, as I was drifting off to sleep one night, I heard my friend speak. "What are you waiting for? You wanted this since you were 20!"
At that moment, I completely understood the gift my friend gave me - to just do it. So, it may be 42 years later, but I have begun planning my move to where I had set out to be all those years ago. My visit gave me the feeling that I had come home ... finally! There was no struggle with the decision, only a place of balance and peace, and my friends words, "bout damn time!" And her laugh! And my laugh. I am finally setting out to do what my heart and my Creator is calling me to do. Much the same life of being a healing artist, just where my whole being knows is home.
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