One Year Later...

Out on one of our photowalks shortly after her diagnoses, we found some graffiti with
the words 'BELIEVE'. We thought it was perfect for our feelings at the beginning
of her cancer journey.

At the age of 43, the years seem to fly by. Each one mixing into the next until an old Timehop or memory comes up and makes me stop and realize how much time has passed without me noticing. But not this year. This year was a year of firsts and each one made me painfully aware of how fast this year was passing.

One year. People of bought and sold houses, new cars, new babies, old loves lost, new loves begun, new school year, new jobs, new friends, vacations, concerts, holidays, birthdays. So much happens in one year that we take it for granted.

The original bookclub from when we first met.

One year ago today, I lost one of my best friends. Colleen was one of my "newer" friends. We met in October of 2006 through a mutual acquaintance who had invited me to her book club that was being held at her house. No actual book was read that I remember but they had Jorie the Coffee Psychic at the party. Colleen was one of the very first people I met that night and I remember liking her right away. We had a mutual love of reading, learning and red wine that bonded us immediately.

Over the ensuing years, we shared our lives, the good and the bad, inside jokes, great books and more laughter than I can even remember. She burned her mark onto my soul.

In some ways I can hardly believe it's been a year already. The pain I feel at her loss is still as sharp as the day we said goodbye. I can close my eyes and hear her voice, feel her arms around me in one of her signature hugs. I still find myself picking up the phone to call her or send her a text about one of out many inside jokes. And at the same time I can't believe it's only been a year. So much has happened since she has passed, good and bad. It feels like a lifetime since I've held her hand, drank some hidden wine or debated over the latest book we read.

Technology has been a blessing and a curse. Facebook and Timehop remind me daily of her presence or rather lack of her presence. In August of 2015, I found out that I did not get a job I really wanted and thought that I had locked up. In September Colleen's cancer had found a new way to make her miserable by essentially blocking her kidneys. She needed a couple of procedures and lots of hospital visits along with someone to get her there. That was when I decided that God had different plans for me. Getting that teaching job was not my path. My path was to be there for my friend and help her out as best as I could. While it was difficult as hell to watch her suffer through some of the things that had to be done, I wouldn't trade that time I had with her for a million dollars. Long conversations in the car on the way to the hospital, hours hanging out during chemo or Vitamin C treatments, breakfast after radiation...memories I have to cherish forever.

I try and remember her at these times. Adversity was never something that could bring her down and she was at her best while greeting doctors, nurses and technicians. She knew their names, their stories. Of course she did. Getting to know people was her gift; getting them to open up to her and making them feel like she really wanted to know and was interested in who they were because she truly was. I think people fascinated her. Even at the end, when we had to accept the inevitable, she (mostly) had a smile for everyone who walked in her hospital room. In the hospice center she held court in the middle of the room making everyone laugh at the sense of humor that was still hanging on even through the drugs and the pain.




I have photos of those end times. I haven't looked at them since the day I took them. I can't. It's too hard. I told myself I was taking the photos for the people in the room. A last memento of the time they had with her. She was giving each of us gifts she had picked out during her last trip to the Mexican beach. That was her. Always thinking of everyone else. But in reality, I was hiding behind my lens. It was easier for me to watch others say goodbye when I was worried about my aperture and shutter speed. Framing just right to get the emotion without feeling it myself. Someday I hope to be able to edit those photos and get them to the people who deserve to have them and see them but I just don't know when that will be. I prefer to remember her as the beautiful vibrant woman that I met back in 2012 who was always so full of life and ready to take on any adventure.

I will miss you forever my friend. I miss you every day. I strive to live up to be the person/artist/entrepreneur that you saw inside me. Today, I will light a candle for you and do a little dance in your honor. Rest in Peace my Dancing Queen. <3 p="">