One of those calls. The call that you immediately feel your heart drop to your stomach and you know it is not something to celebrate. I was weak knowing it was not good and knowing who it was about.
My friend Brenda had been taken off of life support and was gone. From a car accident. A patch of icy road and collision and though she lingered with help from machines, she was gone. It was the height of irony...a car accident.
Brenda was one of the first people I got to know in my profession of Human Resources when I moved here. She got me involved in the professional society, gave me tips on how to deal with crazy people (HR's typical day) and was my roomie nearly every summer at the annual international conference. We took turns bringing the wine...I remember she giggled when someone brought Fat Bastard one year.
There was never a person with a better laugh, better smile, better attitude. She was my hero and role model for positive. She had been through it all I think.
One summer, I was not able to make it to the conference, she didn't either. On the Monday after what would be the conference weekend she called me. At 7:00 a.m. Not her typical hour of girl talk. Something was not right.
I asked what she had done over the weekend and she replied "put my husband in jail, it seems he has been a pedophile for at least a decade and when they go through his computer, probably worse."
I'm not speechless often but that did it.
In the coming months and into more than a year, she didn't say much, I didn't ask. All I did was ask if I could do anything for her and she would reply "you are right now, you're here." She did tell me now and then snippets of what had happened, what was going on, and eventually that he was off to prison and she divorced him.
God did bless her some time down the road after that, thankfully. She called me and said, "you know I met this guy..." I was leary. I was nervous. When Ms. Montana-pal called me to tell me about him, she gave him a HUGE thumbs up and I felt better. And when the day came I met him, I thought he was amazing too. He was perfect for her. She was overdue for blessings.
She called one summer day to tell me that she was not going to the conference that year. I wasn't and she knew that already. But she said she didn't want the other gals (by this time there was a pack of us who went together) to tell me why, she needed to tell me herself.
Breast cancer. Fast. Clean mammogram in April, good-sized tumor in June. Double mastectomy. Chemo, the full monty.
Shit, one more thing for my sweet pal.
A year later we went to the conference together in Chicago. She drove to my house and we drove to Chicago together.
With a stop at the outlet mall. Man we loved shopping at the Coldwater Creek outlet store!
Warm and humid at home in Chicago in June. We walked down Michigan avenue in the sunshine and she stopped and asked if I minded that she take off her wig. Like I cared :) She stopped at Michigan and Wacker (the busiest intersection in the city) and took off her wig, shook it like a dust rag, and shoved it in her bag. Wiped her little Q-tip head and said "THANK YOU, that feels so much better!" She laughed that great big laugh and said "Let's grab a drink now!"
Only my gal with her great attitude.
She later informed me that this deal with prosthetics was pretty OK because she had borrowed her mother-in-law's and they were bigger than when she had real boobs!
She found out later that she needed a hysterectomy with all of the genetics and cancer potential. As luck would have it, the state conference was taking place the night she had surgery and I was speaking at it. She was 20 minutes away.
The pack of us gals, sans Montana unfortunately, piled into two cars and found where she was in the prep area of the surgical wing. You should have seen the surgeon's face when he walked in and it was not just my gal and her husband, it was a PARTY!
She pulled through and did fine.
She dealt with 3 downsizings. SHE was downsized...
She was beyond kind.
When I passed my professional exam to get my HR credentials (which by the way is BRUTAL,) I roomed with her at the conference a month later. I arrived at the room to a dozen long-stemmed roses and card from her congratulating me! The vase was a lovely toilet brush holder :) Brush came too if I wanted it. She explained that finding a vase in downtown Philly was proving a challenge so she found a "substitute" at the dollar store.
She was scary smart. Testified before Congress on FMLA and other HR issues.
She was an amazing cook.
She planted DOZENS of tomato plants, vegetables, herbs, flowers, berries... and gifted me with jam, sauce, wine, pesto... ALL canned and preserved and, and, and by her and her husband. I still have a bottle of Barolo from her that I cannot bring myself to break into.
She was ALWAYS there for me. For work, for personal things, when my parents and Max and Tessa died. When I left my job and changed careers. When anything happened.
She was ALWAYS there with this hearty and contagious laugh, this beautiful smile, this strength that I could not imagine anyone had given all she had been through. She taught me to laugh through so many tough times, frustrating times, silly things.
And it was a patch of icy road.
She survived all of that with laughter, faith and love and it was a car accident that took her from us.
A year later, it still breaks my heart. So much I want to chat with her about. But now and then her email pops into my box and I know someone has probably hacked her account. Maybe it's her, a sign...
But I choose to see her laughing as I see it and take it as that sign that she is guiding me as she always has. And helping me when I ask her for it.
From a place with no cancer, no bad husbands, and no icy roads.
Girl, I miss you so much...
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