In the beginning, we didn’t know each other very well.  We were just in a group of writers, singers, and other performers that met regularly to share their talents with others.  We had an open mic and a scheduled person or group to showcase each time we met.  There was a cover charge of $2.  It was an opportunity to perform in a relatively small venue to get experience and exposure.  That is when I began to know her.  We didn’t really know each other before being in this group together.  Later, we were both on the committee that planned the events.

She was a writer of poetry and stories and was writing or had written a novel by then.  I can’t remember.  I think it was her first one at the time. (She went on to write 2 more as part of a trilogy.)  They have been published and are wonderful books.  Anyway, for all practical purposes, we were more like acquaintances then.  That was until my son died in a car accident.  Later, not long after that had happened, she asked my husband and I to dinner at her house.  We accepted her invitation, and that was the beginning of a very special relationship.

I began to write almost daily after his funeral.  It was my way of coping, and expressing all the feelings and realizations and memories that filled me.  She was an editor at our local newspaper and offered to meet me every week so I could share what I had written. Every week!  And we did meet and I shared every story, every poem, every song I had composed for a whole year.  She was my gentle listener every week!  It became a book and she edited it for me.  My gratitude for her gift, to this day resides in my heart. 

After the writer’s group disbanded, we still kept in touch. We didn’t regularly meet.  But we were always glad to see each other and talked about everything.  The last few years, we saw each other pretty regularly just to talk.  And then she was diagnosed with cancer.

Whenever I was out doing errands and was close to her house, I would park out in front and call her on my cell phone.  If she sounded like it was a good day, I would tell her I was outside in my car, and if she was up to it, she would ask me to come in and we would visit.  She always asked if I wanted coffee and would always give me something to eat with it. We enjoyed each other’s company and talked.  We loved each other.

It was so hard to see her get weaker and weaker.  I knew she was living her last days.  She told me she was ready.  We hugged and we cried.  That was the last time I saw her.  She was, and will always be my very special friend.