My best friend died 2 years ago today. A little shocking to write it, much less say it out loud. I knew her during her fresh-out-of-college years. We were driven; trying to make a name for ourselves in a male dominated corporate world. We both had boyfriends who lived in different cities. We were just getting use to making more than a work-study paycheck provided in college. We were shopaholics with no one but ourselves to answer to. Our jobs included 2-4 planes a week, every week. We were living parallel lives. With time and experience, our lives went from job promotions to engaged to newlyweds to job changes to homeowners. We shared it all, with each other. We experienced it all, with each other. You know that person, the one who you talked to for hours at a time. The one who you stayed in the car with for an extra 45 minutes to finish the conversation. One of your bridesmaids. Yeah, that was her.
Our next experience: motherhood. She went first, and I relished every conversation to talk about the style of nursery, girl or boy and for us it was equally important to know how this would affect her career. Would she/we still be competitive? Would she/we still go to Grad school? Can she/we have it all and still be good mothers?
I’ll never know her answers. She was 27 hours into being a new Mom to a 7 week premature baby girl when I got a call. I answered with so much excitement, it was her phone calling me but it wasn’t her voice.
“No, it’s Matt.”
“Matt?” I thought No-No, not the baby.
“Liz passed away.”
My knees buckled and I fell onto my desk.
He described how it happened and then I think he said, “I have to go now. I have a lot of people to call. I don’t know what I’m going to do without her.”
I don’t know either.