Life is never easy

The death of a friend of mine yesterday struck me right in the middle of my heart. The fact that it was breast cancer what killed her makes it even worse. She was my age, we went to the university together and worked together at the local newspaper. She was a beautiful girl with big, bright eyes, whose innocent look had all the boys in love with her. Ah! how many times we talked about boys! • The last time I saw her was at the hospital. In México, if you are in a public hospital you cannot have visitors. So, a nurse friend of my family practically snuck me in to her room. After one year, the cancer had come back. The surgery was brutal, yet, there she was, smiling and happy that I was there. I was yet to be diagnosed myself, so I really didn't know what she was going through, as I would later. She was like: "Can you believe this?" No, I couldn't, and her husband couldn't either. A year before, the doctors had actually found a tumor in that breast first, but after a few months it had disappeared and appeared in the other. They decided to take out only that breast, instead of the two... • After that last meeting, we exchanged phone calls, emails and Facebook messages about alternative medicine, the power of staying positive, and about believing God would deliver. I seem to be having those conversations every other day with many other girlfriends now. We all wish we could hear our bodies when they tell us we are sick. Half the time we don't know why we feel ill, much less what to do to heal ourselves. My friend's death reminds me how fragile life is, and at the same time, of the fullness with which we must live all our days. We can't afford not to. • But for now, my heart aches. The sadness that invades me is like a cold draft that penetrates my bones. She is gone and, I am sure of this, in a better place. A place where there are no pills to take, no hair to lose, no bones that ache, no uncertainties, no questions unanswered. Be at peace, my friend. Your memory will always be with me.