We're Good

Well, I knew today was coming, but that doesn't mean I was ready for it. After a long battle with breast cancer, my sweet, funny, wonderful friend Beth left this world yesterday and stepped into the next. She was a woman of tremendous faith, so I have no doubt that today she is spending her day with Jesus. (And I hope he is ready, because he's got some explaining to do!)
I have said before that I believe in karma. I absolutely believe that people reap what they sow. But the fact that this incredible person had to endure such a horrendous illness doesn't make sense to me or anyone else who knew her. She was a sweet, compassionate, and hysterically funny person, so beautiful both inside and out. And I'm here to tell you (as if you didn't already know) that bad things happen to good people.
I have said before that I absolutely know why mine and Beth's paths crossed in this lifetime. She really helped me understand what my mother must have been thinking and feeling before her death, the things that she kept from me because that's what mothers do - they try to protect their children. Beth generally put on a happy face when I came to visit, but there were also times that she let me know what was really going on underneath all the show. There were times that we laughed until we cried, and other times we just cried. Losing her was a lot like losing my mother all over again, but this time I was always careful to say anything I wanted to say before I left her house. Before I left, I would always ask, "Are we good? You know that I love you?" as if to say, are we good if this is the last time we see each other? And she would always hug my neck and say, "Yeah, we're good."
I sincerely hope that I have been able to help her girls get through this in some way. If nothing else, I was able to give their mom some insight into what they were thinking and feeling. Even with a parent's death staring them in the face, some part of a teenager's brain always thinks that nothing truly bad will ever happen to them. My mom's death came as a total shock, which sounds so stupid now. We always think we have more time. I am here to tell you that when an oncologist says six to eight weeks, you better plan for six and hope for eight. My heart is breaking for Mary Beth and Erin today. I know what difficult days they have ahead of them, not just now but in the future. Their wedding days and the births of their children will be especially hard without their sweet mother there. There will be a part of their heart that is broken now and forever, a void that no one else can fill. They were their mother's greatest source of joy, and most of her worries about what was going to happen to her were for them.
Beth, I miss you so much! You always made me laugh, even when you felt so bad yourself. I am glad that you aren't in pain anymore, and that you are no longer sick. But I guess I'm a little selfish...I'd rather have you here! I miss your smile and your fantastic sense of humor. I promised you I'd never run a 5K in your honor, and I intend to keep that promise. And hey, we were right! You didn't have to live through another "pink ribbon" October. :) But I'll never see another pink ribbon without thinking of you. Or forget that you played "Russian Toilette" with toilet paper in your guest bathroom, which meant you'd better check the roll before you sat down! You made me laugh and cry and appreciate my health so much more. I value my time with my kids even more because of you. You have made a lasting impact on my life and filled a void in my heart that no one else could fill. I love you and I miss you and I always will. Oh, and Beth, we're good.