As a friend, you hope that she never has to endure any more than she is able to. As a friend, if she can't endure what has been given to her, you help her as much as you can. As a friend, you help her to be strong and in turn, become strong yourself.
I met one of my best friends through work. It's funny to think back five years ago and remember how I perceived Mel then, before I truly knew her. I thought she was a bit stuck-up. She would come to chat with my supervisor-slash-cubicle mate, Joey, about work stuff or sometimes personal stuff, and almost ignore me. It was later that I found out she's shy around new people, the same way I am: which comes off how? Right, as stuck-up. I giggle every time I think about this!
As we got to know each other, we found that we have bunches of similarities: our birthdays are exactly ten years and one week apart, which makes us both Virgos (known, by the way, for being shy!); we were married exactly ten years and one week apart from each other; we are both told by our dads that we were born in the wrong era because we like the same kind of music (70s soft rock like Carly Simon, Fleetwood Mac, Carole King, and so on); we both love papercrafting and being crafty in general; and what's most interesting to me is that we have the same kind of personality--we tend to judge others too quickly, reacting with emotion instead of thought; neither of us likes any sort of change; we criticize the ones we love perhaps too much; we let ourselves be hurt too easily...I could go on and on. I think about our friendship and I am amazed that I met someone who is my psychic mirror-sister. I am so fortunate!
A little over three years ago, Mel told me she was pregnant with twins. Multiple births run in both her and her husband's families, so it was almost inevitable that she would have twins or even triplets! I felt honored because she hadn't told many people, and that "secret" brought us closer. She was so sick during the entire pregnancy--her morning sickness did not go away after the first trimester. With my belly troubles, I could sympathize with her, so we commiserated often behind closed doors.
Later in the pregnancy, about 28 weeks I think it was, Mel woke up not feeling well. She called into work, saying she had a really bad headache and was going to just come in after her OB/GYN appointment which was luckily scheduled for that day. I heard about this through the office and didn't really give it much thought. A few hours later, one of our mutual friends, also a co-worker, came to my cubicle and asked if I could go with her to the conference room. Kate told me that Mel's doctor had found no second fetal heartbeat and they were going to do an emergency C-section soon. I was devastated for Mel and her husband. No heartbeat means only one thing.
Sure enough, the second baby had died sometime the night before. A very premature Brenden was born that afternoon by C-section, and we got hourly updates all during the day. A group of us went to the hospital to visit Mel that evening after work. She was groggy from anesthesia and in the NICU unit. Baby Gavin was there with them, swaddled in what would have been his receiving blanket. Brenden, the surviving baby, needed constant oxygen and was fully hooked up to all sorts of monitors so we didn't get to see him.
Each of us girls visited with Mel and Dan separately (only one visitor at a time in NICU). I hugged her, being careful of her monitors and her sore belly. I wiped her tears away and mine too. I hugged Dan. I tried to comfort them as much as I could in the few minutes I could spend with them.
I have not seen a lot of death up close and personal, but I looked at baby Gavin for Mel and her husband. I saw his perfect, tiny features, and I recognized his daddy's nose and the shape of his mother's head. I did not hold Gavin, but I watched as Mel and Dan held him and talked to him, telling him that they loved him and missed him.
In the weeks and months that followed, I talked almost daily with Mel as she went back and forth to the hospital to be with Brenden. I told her that I was so proud of her for handling what might have torn a lesser woman apart--the death of a child. She shared with me poems she found online that women who had lost a twin had written. She told me that she could feel Gavin watching over her when she was with Brenden. I don't doubt that Gavin was there, helping his mother and brother cope.
When Brenden was finally able to come home, I visited them. He was hooked up to an oxygen machine and a heart monitor because he was still so tiny and fragile. Mel was so happy that he was home with them, completing their young family, and I was happy for them, sharing in their joy.
Through those months and the months afterwards of appointments and progress check-ups, I was there for Mel. When she talked about Gavin, I never turned away in discomfort or sadness. I looked her in the eye and told her she was a remarkable woman. She never once felt sorry for herself; she never asked "Why me?" She handled everything with grace and beauty and far more stamina than I think I could ever possess.
This week, another friend at work, one I am not very close to but still think of as a friend and not merely a co-worker, lost her husband to colon cancer. They are both younger than me; he was only 34. He had been battling it for three years; they were only married in September 2010.
I hope that they had time to say their goodbyes to one another. I hope that she has found some measure of peace in the last couple of days. I hope that, when she is able to come back to work, I can comfort her as I comforted Mel, by listening to her stories of her husband, and not turning away in sadness or embarrassment at the tears that may come. I hope that I can help her realize she is so much stronger than she ever thought she would have to be at this time in her life. I hope that in this time of grief, her grace will shine through.
As a friend, it is when she needs someone to simply listen, and not offer solutions or pity, that you find out what true friendship is about. It is helping her see herself as a woman of strength that helps you see it in yourself, too.
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