Kathy, I'm sorry I can't come to say goodbye in person tomorrow. Rest in peace.
"The doctors and nurses say I'm a living miracle!" Kathy told me on the other end of the phone when asked about her latest bout of cancer treatment. She sounded proud, not a bit of fear. Indeed, Kathy lived her life to create a miracle; a miracle for her family, for her friends and most of all for living a full, informative and positive life in this world.
Kathy's positive personality was a highlight in McClelland Hall long before I befriended her. She was one of the oldest students in the classroom and yet she never shied away from asking thoughtful questions to the professors and helping her classmates. I got to know Kathy better when she returned to school after taking a semester off to undergo further cancer treatment. For the first few weeks of our friendship Kathy didn't tell me she had cancer. Of course, she also never mentioned she had maintained straight A's every semester.
"You can do it!" She would tell me when I dreaded the next day's economics exam. Learning to her was an opportunity not to be had again and she seized every moment of it. There was something sacred in education and she treated it with uttermost respect and seriousness. She made it look easy for the rest of us twenty something college students. To us, it was the hang-over from Friday night's party that made studying seem so impossibly hard. For Kathy, being a wife, a mother, a daughter as well as a cancer patient were not that hard, she could always find time to study.
Even though there were 20 years of age difference between us, Kathy was someone I could always talk to about my private struggles. She was not one to start giving advice just because she was older. She listened, with a kind heart and forgiveness. She never assumed anything, never jumped to conclusions. I can't help but wonder if she ever thought my struggles were trivial compared to what she had to contend with, but she never made me feel that way. To her, everyone regardless of their background, age, motivation deserves to be heard and everyone's struggles are equally important.
When her treatment was taking away her memory, her ability to drive and check email, she said with some sarcasm "I really should do better at staying in touch, you know I've just been so busy living my life!" I didn't need to tell her to not apologize, I knew she wanted to make me laugh.
Kathy, I'm going to miss your cheerful Hello on the phone. I will remember the wonderful trip Naomi, you and I took to San Francisco. The wine tasting we enjoyed and the slight buzz we felt afterwards. I will remember the short chats we'd have right before the 8AM ECON class. I will remember the delicious meals we made together in your kitchen. Most of all, I will remember how miraculously you lived your life and tell your miracle to my son, Emil.
Your friend,
Cecily
