My best friend would come over every morning, sit at my kitchen table and have coffee with me. We would talk, laugh, plan our days and pray together.
I don't recall a day in my life without her presence. She was always there, it seems, throughout my entire childhood, the teen years and on into adulthood. There was never a time when we weren't buddies.
For years we met in my kitchen every morning. Then came the day when she seemed confused.
"How did I get here?" she asked.
I looked out the window and saw her car parked in the driveway.
"Well, your car's here, so you must have driven yourself," I replied.
"That's funny," she said, "I don't remember doing that."
This caused me great concern because I've never known her to have lapses in memory like this. After we had our coffee and chat, I called her husband to let him know what had happened and that I'd be bringing her home in her car. My uncle followed us so he could bring me back to my house.
Later that day we found out she had a cancerous tumor on her brain.
"It's an aggressive, fast moving type and I'd recommend radiation because chemo won't have any effect," the doctor had said.
She had two or three treatments to no avail. New tumors began showing up all over her body every day. It appeared nothing would stop this form of cancer.
"Do you think we should stop the therapy?" her husband asked me.
"It doesn't seem to be having any effect, so I would vote for stopping it," I said.
With that, it was decided to let her stay home, surrounded by family for whatever time she had left.
At first she was able to talk to us, though sometimes her words didn't make much sense. She spent most of the next few weeks sleeping and soon completely lost the ability to communicate.
The day finally came when she surrendered her soul to her Lord and Savior.
It was difficult to watch this happen to my closest friend and best buddy. I grieve over the loss, yet rejoice in the knowledge that she's no longer suffering. I pine for her presence at my kitchen table one more morning, yet I know she is now living in eternal joy.
We had talked a lot about these kinds of things. We both knew there would be a time when one of us would get to Heaven before the other. A promise was made to try not to let it stop the survivor from living. So, while I grieve and hurt and pine, I find solace in rejoicing that she's in the Father's eternal care, free from pain. I remind myself that God, in His great Mercy, saw to it that she went swiftly and that her suffering was minimal.
So here I sit, all alone. I lift my coffee mug and cheese danish toward Heaven. I praise my Lord for His Love and for being so kind and merciful to my buddy, my best friend.
"Save me a seat at God's kitchen table," I say. "I'll be there in a little while to sit beside you and we can talk every morning for all eternity."
I finish my pastry and my drink. I've already shed many tears, and now a few more.
I look up again and say, "I will go on, as I promised you I would, but it may take me some time to get accustomed to your absence."
Weeping into my hands, heart aching, I begin to pray. "Heavenly Father, I'm in need of Your great comfort. Wrap me in Your Love and help me get through this. I know I'll be okay as long as You stay near me."
Feeling a little better, I bring my dishes to the sink. I stand there for a moment.
"Just one more thing, Lord," I say. "Please take care of my buddy."
I turn around to start my day. I'll make it through somehow, even though I'll miss my best friend, my buddy, my mom.
**this is a fictional account of a true story, written to help a friend cope with her loss**
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