cmtreadway

It has been almost a week now since I lost a best friend to cancer.  She was an amazing person, not just because I say so, but because she showed it everyday to everyone.  If you ever met her, then you considered yourself lucky and you would know my words to ring true.

I have spent a few days knowing I wanted to say something in tribute to her, while watching others post their thoughts and feelings and share the great photos.  There is really no place you can start or end in describing her impact on the world.  Then I remembered the letter I recently wrote to her for her “50th” birthday.

Her wonderful, supportive daughters, Brittany and Taylor, came up with an idea for her birthday month in May.  They asked for us to each write a note, card or letter to her with any fun memories that would brighten her day.  At first, I had difficulty knowing what to write and then suddenly our life came flashing back to me and it all fell into place.

Instead of saying something new, I have decided to post excerpts from that letter I wrote her a short couple of months ago.  It’s not poetry, but she told me that it meant so much and brought her happy tears.  She also said it made her feel all warm and fuzzy and that it was PERFECT.

That is how she always makes me feel when I think of her still.  Rest In Peace, dear friend.  The void is deep, but memories of you will forever keep me strong.

I love you always,

Tel

Here is some of the letter I wrote to her:

                                                        May 12, 2014

Dear Jina:

Where do I begin to share with you the impact you have had on this person.   As I attempt to get words on paper, chaos continues to surround me.  What makes that interesting is the fact that I can quickly feel calmed when I realize you are my audience and I can block the nonsense out.

If I remember correctly, you came into my life somewhere around 4-5 years old.  I am sure I wasn’t the easiest girl to play with considering I could suggest dolls and jumping bikes off ramps all in the same sixty minutes.  You were a fair sport about most of my “ideas” even on the many occasions it was obvious to you that my plans were probably not always so thought through.   

We did play dolls, dress-up and assembly as well as football, tennis, and exploring my creek.  Now I can’t be sure, but I even believe we may have had a couple of issues with windows.  Well, getting into “hot water” with them anyway.  I’ve decided you are to blame for the “Amway” sales pitch (big of me, huh?) and I’ll take responsibility for the bear on a string and skate and the mysteriously delivered baby on mom’s door step. 

I will definitely never lose the sound of Bill’s keys and change jiggling in his pocket from the stairway as he would try to sound intimidating because we kept giggling after bedtime and your mom’s soothing voice as she counted my sheep.

Adulthood came calling for us both at an early age, but somehow we managed to stay connected and keep the friendship growing from different states.  We were less involved with each other at that time, but I never remember feeling like we were out of touch.  Remarkably, we always picked up right where we left off.

So now we’ve essentially raised our kids, and our husbands are still allowed in the house (not that it has always been easy to allow), and we are sharing more “adult” moments.  We’ll have to allow some, but if it is all the same to you, let’s shoot for as many ridiculous moments as we can stand.

As you approach “50”, you still look 25 to me.  Your grace and strength have added to that beauty and you continue to amaze me beyond words.  You boost my position in life just by knowing you.  You aren’t going to make me start paying for that, are you?

There is no way to express how unfair it is for you to go through this sickness, but God knows what He is doing and He picked one of His most special people to witness to others about His love, protection and promises.  I have been humbled to know someone who has a prayer request chain that stretches worldwide as your friends and loved ones have rallied around you in support.

Your strength as a fighter shines through fiercely, but again, you do it with such grace that is almost appears effortless.  One never knows how one will react if faced with a challenge, but now you know.  You stood up to that test and you continue to kick butt every day.  You make me aspire to be a better person.  Cry when you need to, but laugh more. 

Thank you for showing me what a real woman is capable of and for helping me to put things in perspective.  No matter what, you beat this thing.  You remained “Jina” and that is your best legacy of all.

Since I seem to have a gift of meaning kindness and making people cry, lol, I will end this letter on a funny note.

Dana and Julie, do they still have hair?  We yanked and combed and pulled without much care.  Wait, we’re going swimming now?  Do you have your Westwood tag on your suit?  Oh, Neil Sedaka, how I love your new 45, but Woolco is waiting for us to grab the candy loot.  To dance, to dance, to good ole’ Rocky Top, but alas, I no longer can make my boots scoot.  I suppose we’ll just have to open that cupcake shop now, oh crud, that means I shall become as large as a cow.

Happy Birthday, girlie!!!!! I love you from the bottom of my heart!!!!!!! Thank you for being on this crazy journey with me.

Love always,

Chantel