So, I finally showed up here!

In the fall of 2010, I designed this blog template, with every intention of following through with writing, regularly.  .......   Time passed and a series of life situations presented themselves, and I just couldn't think of anything "important" to say.
But what is "important" anyway?
I just read a couple of blogs of friends who are strruggling with their own life situations. Presented honestly, I found myself connected and interested in them as part of our whole human experience.  Granted, they are both writers by trade so I could be intimidated by that......
No, I have something to say.
This past week I have been hit over the head by friendship.  Friendship, you say?  What a bizarre weapon!
Well, not really a weapon, but definitely powerful. 
On June 9th, I lost a very good friend to breast cancer.  She finally said, "enough" to the treatments and gently went to her rest. It was a great privilege to have known her.  
Deb and I connected first where she worked - at the bank we deal with.  She worked in "the cage" and handled mostly transactions for businesses.  My first real notice of her was when she returned to work after her first encounter with breast cancer.  It was obvious that she had had chemotherapy.  She had about 3/4 " of hair, sticking out all over her head - all the same length - like a baby bird.  It was something I didn't feel comfortable talking about with a virtual stranger, but I did admire her attitude.  She seemed to be so happy and so proud.
Later, when I got to know her, she told me that she was proud.  After being bald and wearing wigs and hats, she really felt that that little bit of hair was a "do"! And she gave her signature big smile at that!

A year or so later, I was touring a local post secondary institution for a potential event, and was being shown the classrooms and studios.  Low and behold in one of the painting classes, there was Deb, painting at a big easel.  I went over and spoke (as we were acquaintances from the bank) and she told me she took some of her holidays to take painting classes.  From then on, we talked about art and our children (turns out we have daughters who are about the same age), and she teased my son and husband when she waited on them in the bank.

In 2006 I was diagnosed with inflammatory breast cancer and began treatment in October.  I had already commited to being interviewed about weaving for the local paper, so when the reporter arrived and I was bald, I proceeded to fill her in on breast cancer screening techniques and how important it was for women to be in touch with their own bodies and follow up with screening.  She wrote the article and a few days later, I got a call from Deb. She indentified herself and said, "I don't want to intrude, but I would like to offer my help and support in any way I can.  I went through this a few years ago and I know it helps to have someone to talk to who understands".  Over the next couple of years of my treatment, we got to know Deb and her husband gradually.  Definitely the shared experience of breast cancer brought us together intitially, but we became fast friends.  We both shared a love of nature and colour and although our artistic mediums were different, we admired each other's work. 
When Deb found out her cancer had metastasized, it was a huge blow.  She underwent numerous treatments with radiation and chemotherapy and surgeries.  When she felt well enough, she continued to paint.  She kept up with her local friends and even managed a trip out to BC to visit her beloved brother's family and spent a couple of days with us. She got two more years.  She got to see her daughter graduated from grad school and back in Canada.
Right up until she was too tired to smile anymore, she smiled. And the smile made it to her eyes.
She got too tired to stay here anymore, but she lives on in the family and friends.
The funeral was on Tuesday and I have to say, I thought I was ready for it.  I had had some wonderful quality time with her.  We said goodbye.  I was able to tell her that I loved her.  The service was positive and reflected her love of family and music and there were indications of her wicked sense of humour popping up occasionally. It was a celebration of a short life well lived. 
So when I got home, I totally lost it and cried for hours.  I was truly shocked.  What was that about?
I do think it was cathartic.  I guess I needed to do that.
The next day I was booked for a massage, so the massage therapist reassured me that it was perfectly normal to feel as if I was run over by a truck and proceeded to make me feel better. 
And then I was able to move on to a lovely visit with a beautiful young mother and her 3 week old baby.  There is nothing like holding a baby to help to understand the circle of life.  I came home tired but much happier thanks to my daughter's friend who shared her gorgeous little boy and told me how happy she was in her life.

Here I am with baby Sean. 
I wish her little family continued happiness
The circle of life.  All in one 24 hour period.  Sadness and joy.  Old and new.
Wow, who knew, when I started writing this I would get here.
Thanks for sharing my thoughts.