Today has been one of those days when your heart feels full but also a little heavy. It’s been five years since my best friend’s journey took an unexpected turn, and today, she’s no longer here. Today is the day of her burial and it’s hard to find words to explain how much has happened in those years, and even harder to wrap my mind around the fact that she’s gone.
Where we started
It all started with an awful biking accident: one that shattered her leg and sent her into a endless loop of surgeries, infections, and a year of recovery that would change everything. The accident alone was enough to make anyone question their fate, but that was just the beginning. There were tumors, surgeries, and the constant reminders of how fragile life can be. We thought we had escaped the worst, but life had more lessons to teach us.
What Covid discovered
And then, the diagnosis. Lung cancer, stage 4, spread to her liver, heart, and more. It was like someone had slammed a door shut, but she refused to stay behind it. She fought, not just with the medical world but with herself: alternating between chemo treatments, alternative medicine, and her own strong-willed beliefs. It was tough to watch, as I saw her shrink in ways that were hard to accept. But she never gave up. Her spirit was so vibrant, even in those darkest times, but there was something we all couldn’t deny: the cancer was winning.
Just being there
I spent countless hours by her side, doing everything I could to help. When the oncology team was pushing for more treatments, and she was pushing back, I found myself caught between her and the doctors. There were intense conversations, moments of frustration, and moments where I felt like I was losing my best friend. But through it all, I held her hand, just trying to be there, even when I didn’t have all the answers.
Finding help
And then, when things got really hard, we called for help. Not just for her, but for all of us: her family, her friends, her caregivers. The woman I knew so well was no longer the same. After brain surgery, the changes were drastic. It was painful to watch someone I loved so deeply struggle with memory loss, paralysis, and a side of her that was fading away. And even then, she didn’t want to call it palliative care. She was passing through a moment to go home later on. She fought until the very end, even when she could no longer fight for herself.
The saying farewell
When she passed, I wasn’t there. I missed it by a matter of minutes. But I found solace in knowing that she wasn’t alone at the very end. That, at least, brought me some peace. What didn’t sit well with me, though, was how the people who had been with her during those last years were excluded from the final goodbye. I wasn’t invited to the funeral, nor was anyone else who had been part of her daily care. The ones who were there, day in and day out, were not given the same chance to mourn and say goodbye. It was hard to accept, but I chose to stay away from the drama and the hurt feelings. I got invitted later on but sometimes you just need to let go of those things to find your own peace.
It’s been a strange day, full of thoughts, memories, and some healing, but most of all, it’s a reminder of how fragile and unpredictable life is. In the end, it’s not about who gets the final word, but about who was there when it mattered the most. I’m grateful I had the chance to be there for her when she needed it, to listen, to comfort, and to share those moments that will stay with me forever. That's what I cherish, not a place of drama who did the most.
My message to everone
This is what I leave with you: cherish the people you love. Don’t wait for tomorrow to have the conversations you’ve been putting off. Life is too short, and people are too precious. And when you find yourself standing at the crossroads of difficult decisions, remember: it’s okay to walk away from the things that no longer serve you. The love, the connection, the moments that matter will always be there, no matter what.
The image was prompted by me through Midjourney, and my intellectual property
