I’ve just been told about @imadilife passing this am –
I met Madi via IG, right as she posted her stage 4 colon cancer diagnosis. Each day forward, I waited for Madi’s stories and posts – her strength soothed the grief I’m still processing since the loss of my beloved friend to stage 4 lung cancer almost 2 years ago. I dm’d Madi that. She responded with love and “followed back.”
Often heartwrenching to see her IG stories, I celebrated Madi’s rawness and transparency; giving her followers an insider’s view into treatment and survival and, sadly, Madi’s story and suffering are so relatable to so many in our world.
As the months went by, Madi’s treatment became much more difficult, and Madi began to lose her grip on cancer’s progression. She still mustered up the positivity and strength to post her treatment updates as she negotiated through surgeries, labs, hospital transfers, and cancer complications. I could see beyond the images and videos and know too well the realities of treatment – weakening: trying to comeback, sliding downhill and crawling uphill, day in and day out.
And then, last week, online silence.
Madi stopped posting.
As the coronavirus spread and the world’s shutdown began, I intermittently checked on Madi via her IG feed.
I began to worry about her.
I hoped, maybe she’s healing from surgery?
I knew she’s vulnerable, so I hoped everyone’s sheltering-in-place for people like Madi.
I didn’t know who to ask how Madi’s holding up, but I believed her silence said enough.
Now, as I hear the news of Madi’s passing, I sit in stillness and silence, stunned by what she’s endured and grateful for what Goodness she leaves in her wake and in my life.
I hope that Madi’s finally free from her physical pain, and I’m in awe of her loving husband, mother, and family who protected her from evil and are now humbly lifting her up to God.
I’m overwhelmed with “Esperanza” — of living life to the fullest, right here, right now,
And celebrating the intention when we allow a stranger to become a friend.
Touched by imadilife, I believe an angel sent to me via IG and via jwls2707 from above, for life.
In April I said goodbye to my friend of 25+ years – she left earth exhausted and without words.
The last 7 months I’ve heard and seen the realities of grief – of my own, of those who also love my friend, and of those who have lost a love I didn’t know but have shared their grief with me – Grief and reconciliation and the need for healing are rampant in our world.
Less than a month ago, my daughter asked if I’d travel to Amsterdam with her since no one else had the same work time-off. I texted my German penpal, asking if she’d meet us there, too.
An ocean away yet my penpal responded within minutes, “I’m in.”
Today I went all over Amsterdam with my daughter and lifelong penpal – we went to the Banksy exhibit @mocomuseum , and later in the day, I biked Amsterdam’s streets with my daughter who I taught how to ride a bike; chasing her down a golf course fairway holding onto her bicycle seat, yelling, pedal! go! and with my penpal who as children, we were introduced by our parents – a gazillion letters ago –
Life is fleeting yet friendship is like the light that decided to show up on this #Banksy work of art right while I was taking a closer look –
Present yet sometimes flickering and sometimes seemingly out of reach – True friendship is a two-party contract that stands up to the tests of time; showing up when least expected and in ways, more moving than I, pre-grief, could’ve imagined “I’m in and here to stay. I’m tucked safely within you; securely fastened within your heart right exactly where the real magic lives.”
And listen here – pinkie swear –
We’re taking care of each other’s hearts and art forevermore.
I know deep within my heart that she would’ve liked this if she were alive to “like” my art.