I wish could remember how I met her. How are friendship first came to be. I know that we were blogging friends first, then Facebook friends. We commented back and forth on blog entries and Facebook posts. She was wise. Her kind words always resonated with me.
In one of her last posts, she writes:
Since Thursday’s appointment with my Onc I’ve really been doing a lot of thinking. It’s made me very melancholy. It makes me wonder how much time l have left on this earth?...I am feeling ever so rushed to get things done knowing at any time I could be rushed to the hospital never to come home again. And then there are times I think I might have months to live....Sometimes, I feel the same way. I think A LOT. I feel rushed A LOT. I am not putting myself in the same boat as Daria, or even the same ocean. She fought for a long, long time. I fought for one year. However, her's was a recurrence, starting as breast cancer 2000 and ending up in her bones, liver and lungs. My biggest fear.
As I type this, I cry. My emotions unchecked. The sick feeling at the pit of my stomach adds to the anxious feeling that has plagued my afternoon and the tears just flow. I tell myself that I am not crying from fear. I will not allow myself to ponder the thought that our cases and treatments were similar. My outlook is much too positive for that.
I DO cry because I have felt her unease. I DO cry because I know that she questioned every health decision that she ever made. I DO cry for her husband who has been lovingly updating her blog to let us all know about her last days and her funeral services. But mainly, I cry because the "breast cancer sisterhood" that I am privileged to be a part of (backwards as that may sound) just lost one of our dearest members. A shining light among the stars.