Bonnie

My friend Bonnie left this earth on August 13th, 2014. Even though it was a blessing in one way, considering how badly she was suffering, it is of course heartbreaking. The whole thing was heartbreaking, to see someone so full of life have her life so swiftly and ruthlessly taken – one ability at a time, one painful indignity at a time. Back in April, she was given about two weeks to live. But she fought hard, and she took four months instead. Four months of seeing old friends and new, of making sure her son would be provided for, four months of short walks and then long rides in her wheelchair. Four months of finding homes for her seven cats, her horse, her mule. Four months of sitting on the front porch and sucking in deep drafts of warm summer air, four months of increasing pain, four months of incredible courage.

The last time I saw her she could no longer speak or feed herself. She wouldn’t take food from her husband or her son. They asked me to try and I fed her little bites of lasagna and sips of water. She was too weak to suck the water through the straw so I held the cup to her mouth and she drank. When I gave her her dose of morphine I briefly considered giving her too much. She couldn’t feed herself, she couldn’t change her position, her feet and calves were covered in sores and weeping. But I knew it wasn’t my decision to make.

Later that evening her son and her husband came in and we sat without speaking and held hands-son to mother to friend to husband- with soft music in the background. Then they left the room and it was just Bonnie and I. I talked to her some, but mostly was just quietly with her. Finally, I went home. My last sight of her, she was lying in the recliner, her pale gaunt face tilted up to the ceiling.

I didn’t go back the next evening as I was exhausted after work, and I thought there would be more time. At around 2:30am, her husband went in to see her and she was lucid for the first time in a long time. He sat with her and they had the best talk they’d had in weeks. He went back to bed and when he came to check on her a few hours later she was gone.

And I still can’t believe that she is gone, even though I saw her dying. I just keep seeing her as she was, smiling and full of mischief and griping and laughing. And I do feel her presence sometimes, but I miss her so much as I go about my days as if life was normal and as if this whole sad terrible thing had not happened. And I smile at people and talk about the weather or an upcoming trip or what the cats just did but inside I am reeling.

There doesn’t seem to be much room for grief in this world, so I am very thankful for the people here. And I am thankful for friendship and for love and the strength that enables us to be there for each other. And I am thankful that five years ago I met a lady named Bonnie who became my dear friend, and that we got to ride this earth together for a time. Godspeed, dear Bonnie, until we meet again.