Honoring Memories: A Heartfelt Farewell to a Cherished Friend

Recently, a three-hour journey through relentless storms led me to a hospital where a close friend was nearing the end of her battle with cancer. My husband drove me through the heavy downpour, waiting patiently outside to give me the privacy to say my goodbyes.

As I navigated the rain, I pondered whether my presence could ease her suffering or offer a glimmer of hope amidst despair. Would my visit intrude upon the intimate moments shared with her husband, daughters, and sisters who stood vigil at her side?

A final embrace

Upon my arrival, I was greeted with warmth and assurance that my friend would be overjoyed to see me. She lay in a hospital bed, now relocated to the dining area of her home. The oxygen machine hummed softly, a stark reminder of her frail state. A hospice aide tended to her, and as our eyes met, she reached out, inviting me into her world.

Although the weight of painkillers dulled her physical strength, her mind remained sharp. With remarkable clarity, Robin recounted the harrowing journey leading to this moment: the excruciating agony that necessitated an ambulance ride, the emergency surgery, and the week spent in intensive care. Acknowledging the inevitability of her fate, she embraced the difficult choice to enter hospice care, resolute in her acceptance. “I won’t bother with contact lenses or hearing aids anymore,” she stated calmly.

The roots of our friendship

Our bond traces back nearly five decades to our college days, where we united to establish Sonoma County Women Against Rape in the 1970s. Under the guidance of a nurse, we trained as rape crisis counselors, managing a hotline from our homes and supporting survivors through hospital visits and court testimonies.

Despite physically drifting apart as life took us on separate paths—her pursuing law and later divinity, while I became an educator—we nurtured our friendship through letters, phone calls, and shared experiences. Every conversation was infused with laughter, tears, and the unbreakable connection that time and distance could not diminish.

Shared journeys and laughter

Throughout our lives, our friendship flourished. I reminisced about camping trips along the California coastline and transformative travels to Guatemala. Even when we lived continents apart, we maintained a steady stream of communication, sharing the joys and challenges of parenthood, relationships, and the inevitable losses of loved ones.

We often joked about being each other’s therapists, navigating life’s rollercoasters together. Our differing faiths—her being a Methodist and my Jewish background—never hindered our shared values of compassion, feminism, social justice, and civil rights. We frequently envisioned growing old together, a dream now cut tragically short.

Reflecting on a shared legacy

During my last visit, Robin and I exchanged thoughts on the richness of our lives, acknowledging the struggles we faced along the way. I presented her with a cherished black-and-white photograph from 1977, capturing a moment from my volunteer work in earthquake relief in Guatemala. The image featured Robin alongside me and a friend, Betty, as well as two Cakchiquel women adorned in beautiful huipiles. She recognized Betty, recalling her passing a few years prior, and remarked on the bittersweet nature of photographs—“there’s always someone missing.”

As our time together drew to a close, we embraced tightly, exchanging heartfelt declarations of love. Shortly after my departure, her husband texted to share a touching moment: Robin, in a fleeting moment of awareness, urged him, “You need to give Becki something to eat.” Even in her final hours, she was thinking of others.