Death and Dying

So as I mentioned before, I was in Alaska this past week saying goodbye to a dear friend.  Her name was Sharon.  I met her when I was about 13 years old.  She was the mother of one of my best friends.

To know Sharon, was to love Sharon.  She had this amazing quality of making you feel special, and her hugs were the warmest, tightest hugs out there.  And her smell...Her smell was of home.  I loved the way that woman smelt.  Her house, no matter where she lived smelt like her.  When ever I walked in I would take a deep, deep breath as if to capture her essence.  Her energy.

Sharon was sick from the moment I met her.  I remember going to her home shortly after my mother died and overhearing her telling someone how she feared for Dawn because she knew her time was limited too.  That was 23 years ago.  And man did she fight!

Although Sharon was my friend's mother, I always considered her my friend as well.  She often confided in me about things that were stressing her out, or wanting to bounce things off me to get my opinion.  We often talked of her children, and her all consuming love for them.  She always wanted to do better for them.  Love them better, prepare them better, know them better.

And she was most definitely like a mother to me.  She constantly reassured me that I was on the right path, that Motherhood would be amazing, and that my own mother would be proud of the woman I had become.

My fondness memories, aside from her smell was her laugh.  She had a great laugh, a great sense of humor and a great spirit.  She was always positive, even when things were crashing around her.  She always tried to find the silver lining.  I loved that about her and I believe it is what kept her alive for so much longer than doctors anticipated.  She always searching for knowledge too.  How to be a better partner, a better friend, a better human.  Just looking at her book collection you can see what mattered to her and how she wanted to live her life.

She is for sure an inspiration on how I want to live my life and I wish so badly that I could still talk with that woman.  Its the shitty thing about death.  The finality of it.  How we can only hold on to the memories of once was and even that begins to fade.

As I left her house Saturday night I was over come with sadness knowing that this is the last time I will enter her home, smell her smell and walk into her warm arms again.  And I HATE that.  But I will hold on to the memories, the pictures I have and the collection of things she has gifted me over the years.  There isn't a day that goes by that I am not reminded of her and her presence on this earth.

I will miss you Sharon!