Today marks one year since I lost one of my closest friends to Cystic Fibrosis.
One whole year. And I honestly don’t know how we have survived being here on this earth without her for this long.
I struggle to fathom how 365 days could have possibly passed. Because the loss is still so raw in my heart that I could easily mistake her leaving this world as an event that might have happened only yesterday.
I have thought about her everyday. And I have missed her with fibre of my being – that feeling of loss hasn’t faded, not even for a second. I have tried so hard to make the memories I have of her enough, but I’m not sure they could ever be. Because nothing compares to the tangible moments spent with her before she left this world.
I have searched for her name on Facebook countless times and spent hours looking at her pictures, simply imagining the immensity of what I would give to have one more moment with her.
Over these last 12 months, I’ve often wished there was a way to send postcards to heaven. That by some miraculous mailing system I could talk with her, let her know that things weren’t the same without her. I’ve always thought that maybe it would help the void in my heart feel lessened somewhat, and that maybe it would make living without her bearable if she could tell me that she was loving her angel wings.
I know that her family has felt her absence far more than I ever could. And I’ve watched her husband struggle through darker days than I have ever known. I have watched this world continue to turn and admired their strength through every painstaking step forward they have made in honour of her.
There’s a resilience I have watched grow within each one of them. To feel the paralysing heartache and yet continue to see each day through with such courage and determination is something I know they have done just for her.
Because she was the sunshine that made everyone’s world a little brighter and giving up was never in her nature. Her heart only knew how to love unconditionally and her kindness was always overwhelming. She was vibrant, and she sparkled. She was, and still is, the greatest addition to our lives.
So this afternoon, in her memory, we sat on the beach and watched the sun set over her favourite place in this world. I felt the sand beneath my feet and felt the salty ocean breeze on my skin, and I silently promised that she will always be the reason I know what it is to truly live.
One year on, and it’s not easier – but she has forever redefined how I choose to view this world each and every day. And I have strived to live an extraordinary 365 days just for her.
KB, you are missed so immensely – I hope you know that.