So long, my friend...

I just got word that my dear, dear friend Joan softly and peacefully died last night with her new baby granddaughter in her arms and surrounded by her loving family.  Joan has been bravely fighting cancer for the past few years.  So bravely that she worked up until this past November, and nobody even knew she was sick unless you were in her inner circle.  I know that my world was significantly changed when she became a part of it, and that my world has changed again, knowing that I won't hear her voice or feel her enthusiasm for life surrounding me in the same way anymore.  Joan was a vibrant person who fully engaged in life. I've always admired her.  She was a great role model for how a person should really live. She loved the Phillies, she loved going to movies, she loved dancing and eating, just to name a few things about her.  She loved her friends and was truly one of the most thoughtful and caring people I've ever met.  She appreciated things that nobody else noticed.  She never forgot a special occasion, and was always thoughtful in the way that she acknowledged those occasions.  She was a giver... always putting others above herself.  She talked fast, moved fast, but noticed everything and took nothing for granted.  She felt things deeply, and had such a love for the kids she worked with.  She was a teacher at the hospital, and one of the people I loved working with the most.  One thing that made her so great with those kids is the way she cared about them.  Every child was unique, and she felt their pain and celebrated their joys and triumphs.  She loved them with all of her heart and soul.  She was a true family person, always giving to her husband, Jim, and her two kids James and Joanna.  She lived for them, she loved them tremendously.  They felt the same exact way about her. She would always talk about them with such pride in her voice. When she first told me she was sick, she said "But I'm going to be fine.  I have to be fine.  My kids are young.  They're grown up, but they're young and I'm going to be here for them".  She did everything for her kids and her husband.  I'm feeling really selfish right now, because I want her back, but at the same time, I'm so grateful that her pain is over and that she's finally ok again.  Nobody deserves to live like that, and as hard as she fought to live, I'm thankful that she's safe and pain free today. 
As excited as everyone was for us and as anxiously as everyone awaited little Brooklyn's arrival, few expressed their excitement more than Joan.  She was one of our biggest cheerleaders, and when I told her that a baby was on the way, her eyes welled up with tears.  She's one of the only ones who knew before she arrived that Brooklyn was coming.  I knew I needed to tell her.  I was afraid that maybe if I waited, I'd wait too long and she'd never know.  I knew Joan would want to know.  When she did arrive, Joan had Joanna text me because she was crying too hard to do it herself.  She sent me a text later telling me that!  She sent us a beautiful personalized picture frame for Brooklyn, and I can't wait to hang it in Brooklyn's room and think of Joan every time I look at it. 

Joan, I love you and I miss you so much already.  I'm happy for you that you're at peace again, and I will hold you so close in heart, every single day.  Thank you for our first family valentine.  I'll always cherish that card.  When I look at the ornament that you gave us for Brooklyn's first Christmas, I'll smile with warm thoughts of you.  When she wears her "I love Mommy" and "I love Daddy" PJ's, I'll think of you.  When Victorino hits a homerun, I'll think of you.  When Pence comes up to bat, I'll think of you.  I'll always think of you.  I'll remember the good times we've had, the patients we shared at work, and the laughs and the tears.  Thank you for your undying support and friendship.  It got me through so many long, hard days and I'll carry it with me always. I feel so blessed to have had you in my life, even if it wasn't for nearly long enough. I'm a different, better person because of you. I wish I could hear just one more "Hey kid, how ya doing?  You doing ok?".  Well, no, not really.  Not right now. I feel brokenhearted, but I know YOU are ok now, and I'm very, very grateful for that.  And I know we will all be ok, too, in time.  So long, my sweet friend... until we meet again.