A Friend's Tribute

When I was about to wind down for the long weekend on Friday afternoon, I received a group text from a friend, urging us to pray for a miracle for Stacey, as she lost consciousness and was in the hospital being resuscitated.

What? Stacey? I only have one close friend with that name. And that group text came from our usual close-knit group of nine women, including Stacey.

Other women from the group started texting too. What do you mean? What happened? Stacey collapsed at home, witnessed by her husband, and was sent to the hospital.

About an hour or so in the hospital, we received the unthinkable text from my other friend, “Stacey went home with the Lord. She did not make it.”

I was speechless. How? What? Was that even real? I was in disbelief. Stacey was in her late 40s. I last saw her about 2 months ago in church. She appeared healthy and was her usual chipper self.

I take care oncology patients every day. There is usually an expected time frame on earth after advance cancer diagnosis, and patients usually have some time to prepare for the final departure. This was different and no one saw it coming.

Apparently, she had not been feeling well for at least weeks. She decided to fulfill her duty as a teacher to finish the school year before going to see her doctor the very next day (which was just 2 days prior).

As soon as I started to ask why this happened, I stopped myself. Everything happens for a reason. I am not supposed to like everything, but I believe that events occur with a purpose and to teach us something. I can choose to be overwhelmed with loss and cry over why she left us so soon; or I can choose to celebrate her life. I choose the latter, and I miss her very much.

Thank you, Stacey, for being you. You were a great friend, husband, mother and teacher. You were always frank and sincere. You took initiative to care about people around you. You were someone easy to confide in.

Thank you for all the memories I got to create with you, either just the two of us or with a group. I remember a few years ago, our girls group went to a paint night session. Stacey might have had slightly more alcohol than usual, and she was progressively more giddy. When the instructor told us to paint the hill, Stacey said, in her somewhat wobbly and higher-than-usual pitch voice, “the hee-lll”. It was likely audible to the instructor. There were other times when we were just sitting down and chat. Times when we went crabbing and fishing. Times when we just decided we should hang out because it was a Saturday night.

Thank you for your cooking skills. You made simple ingredients almost gourmet style platters. I love your chocolate Bundt cake. Even my husband (who is not big on desserts) loves that cake.

Thank you for raising such fine children. Your three wonderful kids are polite, well-behaved, and simply good. You always did your best to provide the kids with all they need.

Thank you for being in my life. My experience on this earth would not be the same had I not known you. I choose to honor you and your legacy. All your friends will take good care of your family.

The grief is there. Maybe time will give me more capacity to contain the grief. I’m letting it sit at a corner as I focus on celebrating Stacey’s life. That makes me feel more focused and empowered. I am going to take care of myself, which includes both my physical and mental health. I am going to pause and slow down in my mind so I can fully experience and live the moment with all my senses.

Thank you, Stacey, for everything. Until we meet again.