A Tribute to Marie

I lost a dear friend to lung cancer in November 2005. I have really missed her lately and sharing some thoughts about her life might help how I'm feeling.

I met Marie at a LaLeche League meeting after her first child was born. She talked about how her love of coffee milkshakes was fine while she was pregnant but it wasn't helping her lose the baby weight. She was funny and outgoing and someone I thought I'd like to know. I invited her to my house for coffee.

I still remember her first visit to my house, which she thought was very nice. She said how much she liked the nooks and crannies in older homes, especially the storage under the eaves. Marie and her husband were building a new house themselves, which wasn't an easy task. I thought of her often last summer as we wrangled with the newness of our house.

Marie and I shared pregnancies, first days of school, birthdays, anniversaries, and the events of everyday life. I taught her how to wallpaper. We shared hundreds of pots of coffee over the years. We promised each other we would always use boiling water from a kettle to make tea.

We shared a love of politics and frequently discussed the issues facing our country. We talked the night the first Gulf war started and couldn't believe that our country had gone to war over oil. Marie called me the morning of September 11, 2001 and told me to turn on the television - a plane had just crashed into the Twin Towers.

Marie liked movies as much as I did, but she didn't want to see violence and would often ask me if I thought she'd like a film. Neither one of us had seen "Schindler's List" so we agreed to watch it when it came on television and talk at the commercial break. I called her but she wasn't watching - at the last minute she thought it would be too hard.

Marie loved to drive and to travel. She was always on the go and liked to have things to do. She loved the family she had and the family she came from. As a special education teacher, she went to the mat for her students. She was a good teacher, and she encouraged me when I first thought about returning to school for a teaching degree. We talked often about how to make schools better and how to best serve our students.

Marie would try anything once. She made the first t-shirt quilt I ever saw, although she learned afterward that her daughter wasn't through wearing all the shirts. Marie skied and hiked and was at home in a tent or a hotel. She had lots of friends. People loved Marie.

I felt fortunate to share time with Marie the year before she died. One afternoon we talked about how different we were. I said I feared I was a high-maintenance friend, and she assured me I wasn't. I could be intense, and Marie usually understood. She held so many of my stories and knew me so well that I knew I would miss her desperately. Marie talked about letting go of her fear.

I have often been fearful over the past year. Marie and I would talk about that. I don't know exactly how the conversation would go, but I imagine we would talk about all the things right with our lives and how lucky we are. Life is miraculous and each day is a gift. We could agree that it's time to let go of the fear and move on.