2025 was rough. I lost my 16-year-old dog in January, one of my best friends moved away in July, and then another amazing human I was such good friends with passed away in early November. I spent the last two months of 2025 fighting back (and losing to) random spurts of crying, isolating so nobody knew, and just trying to find my Christmas spirit. Spoiler alert: it never arrived-and that is fine. Christmas just felt different for me this year, and I finally accepted that this was okay.
I remembered how hard it is for me to cope with death, but in this, also found a new appreciation for life. Heather, my friend who I lost in November changed me forever-in her life and in her death. She found the good and positive in everything. She encouraged me to talk about things that were just hard. She brainstormed with me when I found situations too difficult to think through on my own. She showed me how to live and be thankful, when it feels like the world is all working against you. She showed me how to fight when everyone else gives up, including her own body. She showed me how far positive thinking could take you. She showed me how to dance, even when all you have are “mom moves,” and have the most fun doing it.
And to think, I almost never experienced this at all…
When I first met Heather and her family, her husband filled my husband in on her stage 4 cancer diagnosis. When he later told me, I immediately said, “I don’t want to be friends with her, because I don’t want to lose a friend. I don’t want that heartbreak.”
Heather and I would text back and forth briefly for a couple weeks before I finally gave in and went on a walk with her. This walk changed the course of our relationship. We talked about so much on that trail. She explained to me her diagnosis, her prior cancer journey, her strict diet that kept her alive, and assured me that she had already beaten the odds of her diagnosis and could very easily live a normal length life. She truly believed this, so I did too. And thank God.
We had a few years of an amazing friendship. It was different than any friendship I have ever had. We were both battling lifelong disease and could complain about anything from days of feeling bad, to health insurance frustrations, to what a scam big pharma is. Even though our situations were different in many ways, we connected about family, parenting in this wild world, marriage ups and downs, past traumas and more. There was nothing that was off limits because we just knew it was such a safe space between us. It was one of the most real and raw relationships I have ever had.
Being friends with Heather had its limitations due to her extreme diet restrictions, so we found different ways to spend our time. Walk and talks, sharing my produce with her, helping her with her gardening, laughing at anything (she had the best laugh!) or just sitting on one of our back porches and taking in the nature around us. I had an incredible amount of flexibility in my job which allowed me to walk to her house anytime she needed me. It was truly such a blessing to be able to help her as much as I did. I left every encounter amazed by her strength and ways of thinking about things.
In the last few months of her life, our conversations naturally shifted, and where there was once so much joy, there was now this looming possibility of her death. While she truly never gave up, it was clear that her health was failing her, and if something did not change, we would lose her. The first time she had ever flat out said this to me was on a walk with her and her dog. It was the first time I had ever seen her cry uncontrollably. All I could do at that moment was hold her hand and walk her home. I had no words to make this situation better. Looking back, I bet we looked like a couple of lunatics, crying and holding hands down the street. But the reality was, things were quickly declining, and we had some hard times to get through together.
She trusted me enough to talk to me about some of her hopes and desires for her daughter after she passed. She asked that I be the strong woman that her daughter would need. She trusted me to be there for her husband and daughter when they needed me. She let me in on the bad days. When she did not have the strength to get out of bed, she let me come snuggle beside her and just be with her. Even though it was a chaotic cluster of a day, I got to spend her entire last day with her and was unintentionally with her when she took her last breath. (There is a lot more to this, but I try not to relive this day in my head.)
I miss her every single day. Being neighbors, I drive by her house multiple times a day. I think about her when the sun shines and I can feel her warmth. I see her curiosity and love when I spend time with her daughter. I have realized that even though I hurt so much in the loss, the friendship I had with her makes it all worth it. If we let fear control us, we can miss out on so many amazing things-experiences, relationships, life, and maybe even the friendship that will make you a better person because of it. It is time to move past the grief of the last couple months, and step into 2026 with more of the joy and happiness that Heather always had.
Thank you for every moment you let me be part of Heather. Though I know you sometimes felt like a burden, it was truly an honor to be part of your story and in your life. I love you and will carry you with me forever.
Days with Andrea 