I have had this post swirling in my mind and in my heart for a couple weeks now. Trying to figure out if it was my place to write about it, to share it.
Many of you know my dearest and (almost) lifelong friend Molly.
She and I met when we were twelve years old. Seventh grade. Twenty five years ago. Wow.
We had an instant connection to each other, one that has remained true and strong no matter where we have been through the years. In our early friendship, we were joined at the hip. Where there was one of us, the other was not far behind. We spent almost every weekend together for slumber parties and fun that only middle school girls understand. We easily became each others best friend. Kimmer the Skimmer and the Unsinkable Molly B.
I look back and cherish these days. How simple life was then. Even though it seemed so tough at times. The things we thought unfair, seem silly now. The things we found challenging, we would welcome back in exchange for the challenges we are faced with as adults.
Molly and I have grown into women together.
We became mothers within months of each other. It was at the time that we became mommies, that we truly realized what we had in the other. Strange how motherhood makes you realize that you may not talk to each other everyday. See each other as often as you would like. But at any given time...you pick up right where you left off, as if no time had lapsed at all.
That is the type of friendship we have. No matter where we are, what we are doing, what is happening in our lives...we can count on the that fact that the other is with us in our heart, and that she is never more that a thought away when she is needed.
Since reaching adulthood. Molly and I have been there for each other in so many capacities.
Happiness, sorrow, excitement, fun, anticipation, worry, death, life.
We are constant in each other.
She was there to comfort me through miscarriages. We rejoiced the births of our precious baby girls Chloe and Olivia just 3 months apart. We shared new mom feelings and emotions. Laughter and tears and insecurities. I was there to comfort her when her Dad was diagnosed with Cancer and helped whenever I could during his treatment. She was there for me when my worry and anxiety brought me down she made me realize that she truly understood what I was feeling because she often felt the same way. I was there to hold her hand and help her to grieve the loss of a late stage pregnancy. She was a comfort daily to me during my pregnancy with the triplets, always willing to do whatever I needed her too, even when it was just to sit quietly with me on the phone or at the hospital while I cried so afraid my babies would be born too soon. All the time, pregnant with baby Laila, and worrying about her own pregnancy, and that it would be okay. She is the Godmother to the triplets. We are the "aunties" to each others children.
Breast Cancer. My best friend. My Molly. A daughter, a sister, a wife, a mother, a friend...breast cancer. How does that happen. Why does that happen. In your early thirties, it can't be. This is not supposed to happen. But it was. I was there for her. I cried with her, held her hand. I cried when I was alone for her, for her family, for her little girls. I cut my hair with her. Loved her unconditionally, praying in my heart that she would beat it. She did. She beat breast cancer. She is a survivor. In the following years, she has discovered a new zest for life. A realization that she had been missing to some capacity a wholeness, a completeness. I stood beside her, and supported her through the dissolve of her marriage. Supporting always that the right thing was for her to be happy. For her to be a happy mom/woman. For herself, and for her daughters. No matter what that looked like, no matter how much life would change...being happy is what she deserved out of life. What we all deserve throughout life.
She has endured so much. In the past year, she has really taken a new stance on life. She lives it to it's capacity. She has her own apartment, her own new life. She is healthy and happy.
A few weeks ago Molly called me. Tears, and sobbing. My heart dropped. I know in my heart that I thought she was going to tell me that her cancer was back.
Cancer yes, but not my dear Molly. Molly's mother Ellen.
Molly's mother Ellen, who was like a second mom to me in my younger days. Molly's mom Ellen who has a wonderful husband, five daughters, four son in laws (soon to be five), six grandchildren...
Cancer. Again. My tears fell strong and quick. I had so many mixed feelings happening. I was so thankful that it wasn't my friend, that she was okay. But heart broken for her pain, heartbroken for the thought of her losing her mother.
Things are progressing quickly. It is liver cancer and she is very sick. She is undergoing chemo treatments and is in so much pain. The outcome is not good. But I pray everyday for that to change.
I feel so helpless. I cry and try to think of ways to make it easier, to make it not hurt so much for my friend and for her family. She knows I am here for here when she needs me, and yet I feel so useless to her. My heart breaks for her.
Seems strange to think back on days when live was so simple.
She is so amazing. So strong. So inspiring to me.
I love her with all of my heart. All of my soul.
I want her and her family to know how much they all mean to my heart.
I look at Molly and her four sisters. They are so incredibly close and supportive of each other. Then I look at my own daughters and know that they are so lucky to have each other all through life, they will be there for each other, no matter what.
I hope that our daughters...Olivia, Chloe, Jocelyn, Farrah, Silvie and Laila are as blessed as Molly and I have been in friendship. I hope they find a person to share their lives with, just as their mommies have. A person that is not a sister by blood, but a sister by heart.
I love you Molly.
My Best Friend. My Sister.
Take comfort in my love for you.