“It Takes A Long Time To Grow An Old Friend”
-John Leonard
Courtesy of Dianne Sonksen
The 50th High School Reunion Committee had the groundwork pretty much in place by April. But, before then, we'd have a Zoom meeting once a month, to make sure the small stuff that made the Reunion complete was moving ahead.
Connie tended to be pretty serious during most of those meetings. So, I couldn't resist getting her to laugh or smile through our quiet texting. One time, she was eating something on the sly. I sent her a text and asked her what it was.
"Brazil nuts!" She texted back.
My response was, "Uh Oh! I think I saw something stuck on your tooth when you were talking, are you eating the shells too?"
Her face changed, and I could see the movement of her tongue as it passed around her teeth.
I added, "Don't smile, you missed that piece of the nut, OMG! Just don't smile!"
Her face looked frantic.
I texted her quickly again, "Wait…you haven't smiled once during this meeting, so no need to worry, they won't even see it."
Connie looked at me on the screen, and I smiled nonchalantly, moving my chair back and forth.
She gave me one of her glares.
My response to her glare, "We're all watching, Con…be careful."
"SHUT UP!" She texted back, which had me covering my amusement from our ZOOM companions.
She called when the meeting was over, and I answered with a calm question, “What, my friend?”
“You! Gurrrrrrrr.”
We doubled over in laughter. ~
Come early May, my husband and I were on the way to our timeshare on Edisto Island, SC for a week's getaway. We invited Con and her husband to join us. It had been a busy couple of months for both of us, so we were ready for some R&R and couldn’t wait.
Once we all settled in, the tension just rolled off our backs. In the mornings, Connie and I went for long walks along the beach and talked about some pretty deep stuff, like life, our hopes, and where we fit now in this world. She would be retiring soon and lived close to some of their grandkids, which she absolutely loved, but she wasn't sure what not working would be like on an everyday basis, although the thought of this kind of freedom was exciting.
As long as I've known Connie, she rarely went deep, but she did this time and it was wonderful to see her contemplating the essence of life ahead.
I mentioned in my last story that Connie was a swimmer. It had been a few years since she had immersed herself in ocean water, and as we watched the waves one day, she said she felt called by the sea to swim, and out she went. Upon returning to the sand, I saw a fresh and renewed look on her face. Later that day, when she brought the experience up again, I told her I had read once that when we submerge ourselves in water after being around heavy and uncomfortable situations or just feeling out of sorts, whether it be by a shower, bath, the ocean or any body of water, it is as though we have been baptized again or renewed. Con smiled as she remembered those moments in the water. She quietly said she wholeheartedly agreed.
The week went by fast; we explored the island, went into Savannah for one of those days, and played some of our favorite board games.
During this time together, I noticed that there was something off about Con, and I couldn't put my finger on it. She seemed distant at times and fatigued. I chalked it up to the humidity. San Luis Obispo has very little humidity, and the weather is always beautiful, even when it rains. It can get pretty unbearable if you are not used to the moist heat in the Southeast.
Connie always enjoyed playing the game Yahtzee. So much so that she would play three games a day against herself for years, and when I asked why once, she smiled and said, "Because I always win." I loved that. While in Edisto, though, the enthusiasm wasn't there at times, and she'd just put the game away and not say a word. There were also minor headaches she had been dealing with for a few months, but taking aspirin always seemed to relieve it.
Later that day, I asked Connie about her headaches and if other health issues were present. She named a few things, like being unable to see out of the right side of her eye and having been more tired than usual. She wasn't into reading much lately but had vivid dreams that she said were book-worthy. I told her she was retiring soon, so she might want to start writing one instead of reading them. She smiled at that in a pondering sort of way.
I was also glad to hear she would make an appointment with their doctor when they returned home.
There was a pretty heavy storm at the time we got to the Charleston airport to drop them off and a few delays were expected. She hugged me tight and said they had the best time, one she would never forget, and whispered in my ear that she loved me and was very proud of me and so thankful we were friends.
When we stood back, she had that deep look again; giving her a loving slap on the arm, I joked, "Con, I'll see you in a couple of weeks; we'll have a blast. Rest on the plane and call me in a few days.”
That was a Thursday.
Because of the storms all over the South, they did not return home until late Friday. I received a text from her husband on Saturday asking me to call when I could.
When I reached him, it was a quick call letting me know that Connie was in the ICU and a tumor was found in her brain. Because of where the tumor was located, surgery was not an option, he said. The doctor would take a biopsy on Sunday morning, and he’d let me know when the results returned. I saved the questions I had for later.
The following Thursday, he called. The results showed Connie had a fast-growing cancerous tumor that had settled on the brain, it was behind her left ear and could not be removed; if it was, there was a chance of her being paralyzed.
Within a few days, she was having speech and cognitive difficulties, and the vision in her right eye was not improving.
Later, I asked her husband what made him take her to the Emergency room after returning home. He said that Connie was more confused after the terrible flights home and developed a pretty bad headache on one of the flights…which he said was unusual for her. On the way home from the airport he called their daughter, who is a nurse and she met them at home to help bring her mother to the emergency room and for support. From there, it was a CT scan followed by an MRI, which showed the cancerous tumor on the brain.
The doctor felt that by using steroids to reduce the brain swelling, things could improve, but they did not. The doctor started chemo after a few weeks of rehab for Connie’s speech and cognitive difficulties, but, after four days, her health declined so rapidly that there was no next appointment.
My last conversation with Connie was towards the end of May when I was at my book signing at Barnes and Noble. No one was at the table when I received her call so we were able to have a good conversation. Even though her words were a little mixed, she sounded upbeat and excited to hear about the reunion plans and wanted to know about the book signing. It filled my heart with joy to listen to her voice. We hung up with the "I love yous," and the promise that I would take many pictures at the reunion and share them with her afterward.
I was well-informed about Connie's prognosis. Her husband and daughter kept me updated, as did a dear friend of Con’s, Dianne. She was not only a book club friend of twenty years, but they walked together several times a week and had wonderful talks together. I met Dianne when I visited Connie a year ago, and we immediately felt a kinship. We reconnected during Con's illness and shared our many stories about her over the phone. If I had two words to describe Dianne, it would be wise, and kind spirited. She is older than we are, and the things one could learn from her are life changing. The Light she carries is easily seen through her eyes and in her calm, quiet demeanor. Connie gave a beautiful gift by introducing Dianne to me, and now, I have someone to talk with when those moments of missing Connie are strong, and I have someone I can call a dear friend, too. 💖
By mid-June, Connie was in Hospice at her home, where the family stayed close to bring comfort when needed as she rested.
Connie passed on June 21, 2024.
Connie took this photo the last night in Edisto.
The Celebration Of Life ~ July 21st
I was asked to say a few words on Connie’s behalf. I shared a little history about our friendship and threw in a couple of funny stories about her moving furniture and playing musical chairs at the restaurants we went to. Many in the audience were shaking their heads and laughing in agreement, validating that this was indeed a part of Connie's nature. Even her young grandchildren acknowledged these traits, and I could feel Connie laughing next to me. I smiled as I spoke.
On a serious note, I continued,
"When someone close to us passes, it is natural to grieve, and it is healthy to do so. But what if we were to set those moments aside at times, even briefly, and bring a joyful memory of Connie up to greet our saddened emotions? And then decide to do something fun or creative that we had experienced together with her? I don't think I ever remember when Connie did not use her creativity to explore life in a fun and inspiring way with all of us at one time or another.”
We know an awe~inspiring love now surrounds Connie in a Light we can only imagine. And if we can bring this beautiful energy into whatever pulls us to remember her, peace and joy will be felt, as well as the never~ending love she carries for each of us.
I am honored and grateful to have had the privilege to experience Connie in my life for so many years, and the memories of those years, which are priceless, are resting in a pocket of my heart. Where I can go at any time to revisit the Good, the Holy, and the Beautiful of who she was and still is.
Thank you, Connie, my life is richer and more joyful because of you.💖
Connie and me a few months ago.
Thought to ponder:
The friends we have are by our choosing. What if we take some time to remind them just how they have made a difference in our lives? This treasured gift they would receive from you would be priceless.🦋