We met in the support group, brief moments only. It was odd and soothing, how strangers shared an hour and found so much in common, while our children played.
Tanabata, I remember thinking. The herder and the weaver stars... the lovers separated that only get to meet once a year, on July 7th. Her brain tumour had come back, and she knew. She knew, and we all shared silences while elsewhere in the building our children played.
How do you come to Winter, and not think of them? When every leaf whirls in the wind, catches the light.. .and you remember? And snow falls, strange ocurrence in Vancouver, and the silence only leaves you time to think and to imagine? To say a prayer and a silent thought, a moment's touch of remembrance.
I remember. I remember the names of each and every friend I've met that shares the journey. This year has been hard, and I imagine others will be too. There have been many that have fallen, because... well, many do. Many do, and that is why we fight, and claw, and scream, and keep pushing for research and for surgery, and for options because we have as much right as anyone to live, to fight for the possibility of life.
She was named after a star, and never forgot how to live. The best, the only thing that we can leave those we love is that footprint of love, that warmth that wraps around like a shawl against the winter chill.
We remember you. We remember.