"I pictured you as a blonde."

The first time I ever heard her name was at church almost two years ago. Stan and I were sitting in a bible study on a Wednesday night and the pastor asked for prayer requests. A lady raised her hand and said she had a student in her nursing school who was just diagnosed with an extremely rare form of kidney cancer. She was in her early 30's, her husband was in the air force and they had two small children. I wrote her name down on a piece of paper and after we were dismissed I got her phone number from the lady who requested we pray for her. I searched for her on facebook later and could not find her. A few weeks passed and once again I heard her name at church. She had her kidney removed, but there was no treatment for her cancer because it was so extremely rare. I also found out she was headed to MD Anderson the next month after she recovered from surgery. So, a few weeks later, I texted her when I knew she was in Houston. We started a friendship that first text. A friendship was born out of a common fear............the fear of leaving your young children without a mother. She was my only friend that was stage 4, like me, that was still living. We talked via the phone for several weeks before we actually met in person and for some reason we were unable to find each other on facebook at the time. (I still haven't figured that one out) We decided to meet for lunch one beautiful, sunny day at the Olive Garden. So, as I am driving to the Olive Garden that day I realize that I have no idea what she looks like. I text her and say, "What do you look like?" Ha ha!!! Now...... it probably seems strange to you that are reading this that I wouldn't even know what a friend looks like that I would be willing to move heaven and earth for, but THAT is what the fear of leaving your children does to you. You don't even have to know anything else about each other. That fear instinct is a comradery that goes beyond explanation. She texted me back and said, "Ha ha!! I have shoulder length brown hair." I remember thinking, HMMMMM......I just always pictured her blonde. When I arrived I saw her immediately. I told her, "I thought you would be a blonde." She said, "That is so funny, Kristi, because I thought the same thing about you!" And ...just like that......two souls were united. We talked for hours and days for the next year and half. After we got past all the cancer talk we actually realized we had a lot of other things in common and would have been friends if our paths would have crossed on another trail. But, it didn't. We had met on the path of cancer. We were young, looked healthy, and never would have imagined in a million years that cancer would be our story. She and her family moved last summer back to another state to be closer to her family. She knew she was incurable, but held out on the hope that God would heal her. The picture to the right is the last time I saw her. Now looking at it I love the fact that the sun is shining on us. In the midst of our despair it is still shining through. Not sure why.....but that gives me a little glimpse of peace looking at it. She left this earth last week. She didn't want to leave. No one does. I have lost many friends over the past four and half years to this disease, but this one hits the hardest. Her kids are left without a mother. NOTHING is okay about that. As I prepare to travel next week for my own 6 month scans, I am once again reminded of my own mortality as I read her obituary. She was real......sitting right next to me.......crying......laughing....planning.....worrying......questioning.......loving each day.......praying......begging......suffering...and now she is gone. I will never forget my friend. And as I prepare to leave next week for my checkups I take her with me. She will be with me as they stick those needles in my arm......she will be with me as I am slowly rolled into the big machine and listen to it say ,"Breathe in.......breath out......hold your breath.......breathe." She will be with me as they read the results to me as I sit in my little gown. And in a strange way she will be the reason I am able to do any of it at all. It is time to find a cure. I love all of you. ~ Kristi