Melissa

People aren’t meant to just ... disappear. It’s shocking to one’s heart and one’s soul. It’s not right that the last thing you say to someone is “See you Saturday morning”. Like you took it for granted that she would be there. Why on Earth would she not be there?

Yesterday morning, my friend wrote on Facebook that she was sick and throwing up. At 10:25am, she wrote “I feel like death”. And then she died. Melissa, age 28, died.

This is not how it’s supposed to happen. People get sick first. There are warning signs. There are doctor’s visits to attend and tests to be taken. There is time to plead with God for more time. You get to say “Forget all the bad stuff, I love you”.

I read over all the emails that Melissa and I have sent to each other over the last month.

Melissa to me:

“Gwen,
You just made me cry. I am so glad that I have a friend like you!
I love you
Melissa”

Me to her:

“Let's be friends when we are old and grey, and our children will roll their eyes because we are so embarrassing when we get together!”

Melissa to me:

“Deal!! :) I look forward to it!!”

She looked forward to it. And to Christmas with her mother. And to babies with her husband. She looked forward to all the world had to offer, and to all of the things that a 28 year old women is entitled to experience. She looked forward to living her life... but, instead, she disappeared.

Melissa was funny, and fun to be with. Snarky, just the way I like my friends to be! Warm. Compassionate. Kind. Giving. She was my friend. And now she is gone.

There will be time for all the funny stories, for talk about the good times with Melissa. But right now, the shock is crippling. And knowing the grief that her husband and her mother must be feeling is simply overwhelming. And anger that this could happen, and happen the way it did, is all-consuming. Tonight, I will mourn my friend. Tomorrow, and every day after that, I will hold on to the good times. Because the good times were great!