"She was my best friend and most honest critic." Recently I found myself saying these words to one of my nephews. What a blessing it is to be able to say that. How sad it makes me that I must say it. I will always miss my best friend Gwen. When there were things to be done, we did them together. When there were challenges to face, we faced them together. If there were new places to explore, we explored them together. And, in the end, when death had become a reality, we did not shy away from it. We were literally friends to the end.
While I miss my best friend dearly; more than that I miss my most honest critic. It goes all the way back to something my mother wrote to her future daughter-in-law when our engagements was announced. In her note to Gwen, she said that she saw changes in me that could only be attributed to her levelheadedness. And, it's that levelheadedness that I now miss in my life. More and more often, I find myself asking: "What would Gwen do in this situation?" The answer is always the same as it was when she learned that she had cancer. She said, "John," we'll face it, we'll figure out a way to beat it, and if we aren't able to do that, we'll fight it as hard as we can for as long as we can." She never had an ounce of quit in her. "Prepare for the worst, but expect the best," sustained her, and me, during her long battle with the hidden evil that took over her body. Now I thank her for showing me the way.
Once again I am writing these words in the back yard, where the flowers that were planted in her honor on Memorial Day now celebrate her life in full bloom as Labor Day approaches.
When I begin writing, Dear, I seldom know what I will say. Today it was you who gave me the words.
While I miss my best friend dearly; more than that I miss my most honest critic. It goes all the way back to something my mother wrote to her future daughter-in-law when our engagements was announced. In her note to Gwen, she said that she saw changes in me that could only be attributed to her levelheadedness. And, it's that levelheadedness that I now miss in my life. More and more often, I find myself asking: "What would Gwen do in this situation?" The answer is always the same as it was when she learned that she had cancer. She said, "John," we'll face it, we'll figure out a way to beat it, and if we aren't able to do that, we'll fight it as hard as we can for as long as we can." She never had an ounce of quit in her. "Prepare for the worst, but expect the best," sustained her, and me, during her long battle with the hidden evil that took over her body. Now I thank her for showing me the way.
Once again I am writing these words in the back yard, where the flowers that were planted in her honor on Memorial Day now celebrate her life in full bloom as Labor Day approaches.
When I begin writing, Dear, I seldom know what I will say. Today it was you who gave me the words.
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