Eulogy

Thirty-three years ago, I was blessed to meet a girl with bright blue eyes and dark hair who would grow to become my dearest and oldest friend. On a fateful walkathon on a beautiful Fall day in 1988, so the story goes, we got to chatting, and the rest is history. One thing I learned early on in our friendship is that Lisa absolutely adored Winnie the Pooh. She even kept one of those Weeble Pooh Bears belonging to a playset she had when she was a little girl atop her dresser. To loosely reference the words of A.A. Milne, the author of various stories featuring Pooh Bear, as soon as I saw her, I knew a grand adventure was about to begin. I know I have expressed this before, but I will always be grateful to Lisa for befriending the new girl with the big bangs, thick black eyeliner, and odd accent. Through all of the ups and downs in life, she was the one who continued to walk beside me. Though difficult at times, letters and the crackle of various phone lines served as a link to keep us united.  Truth be told, she was always the better one at making it to the post office of us two.

We travelled many roads together in over three decades. We made it through junior and senior high together. We started University and shared a room no bigger than a walk-in closet for two years until Lisa moved to the Nursing School residence and I discovered the mayhem that was a co-ed dorm. As we made new friends through classes and residences, she still was my best one. We successfully finished our schooling and experienced prosperity in our respective careers. We stood proudly off to the side as vows and rings were exchanged in a beautiful old church.  We experienced motherhood and shared stories of the joys and sometimes frustrations that go hand-in-hand with parenting little ones and older children. We saw each other through life and losses. In silences, incessant chatter, laughter, tears, and more hours on the phone than I could ever count, she knew me as well as I know myself.  

Winnie the Pooh, that silly old bear, has been a fountain of wisdom and comfort for me as I reflect on what was, what is, and what is to come. Truly, I know how lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard. Surely Lisa knew that. I have faith that she knows that still. She fought courageously. She is undoubtedly one of the bravest people I have ever had the joy and the heartache of knowing. Selfless, loving, and bloody stubborn to the core, she continued to put her loved ones first - even when the end was near. She taught me the beauty and the joy of a long-lasting friendship. Though ALS made things difficult, it never took away that fact. The one thing she never taught me, however, is how my journey through life will continue without her. Piglet, Pooh’s dearest friend often wondered the same: "We'll be friends forever, won't we, Pooh?" asked Piglet. "Even longer," Pooh answered. I take solace in that.

We are a lifetime away from the twelve-year-olds we were. Time, distance, and circumstance will not change the fact that my best friend walked into my life and my heart in 7th grade. And there she will remain. And like her beloved Pooh’s words that follow, we all know the sadness of endings. “Goodbye? Oh no, please. Can't we just go back to page one and start all over again?”

I will love and miss you, Lisa, every day of my existence.