A Card For Kelly

"What would you like the card to say?" Upon dazedly calling a florist to have "happy flowers" sent to my friend's wake, the woman on the other end asked me this question. I immediately envisioned the 3x5 business card she was probably referring to and said, "I can't even answer that ma'am. There is too much to say that couldn't possibly fit on that card." And in my silence that followed, she gave me some suggestions, none of which seemed enough to express the sorrow I feel for what Kelly has endured over the last few months, the pain I feel for her family, the emptiness I feel for not having more time to grow our newfound friendship, or the sense of guilt that has settled deep in my gut. In my most recent cancer recurrence, the woman who had quickly become my biggest Nisky cheerleader was, in fact, dying of cancer herself and had no idea. It is unfathomable. The glowing and seemingly healthy woman who celebrated with me three months ago when I was gifted a car is gone. It is an indescribable pain mixed with confusion, yet there will never be an answer. So, the card reads simply: My thoughts and prayers are always with you. It seems cliche. It seems common. But those eight words could not be any more true. Since that shocking day she told me of her diagnosis, I have not stopped thinking of her. I will think of her until the day we meet again. Every day, multiple times a day, I would pray. I will keep praying until the gates open up and I see that beautiful smile again. As difficult as it all is to understand, I am confident that it was no accident that God had woven our paths together again. I will never forget our last time together. I will always smile when I hear "Dancing Queen" and see "happy flowers" and eat freeze pops. You are forever in my heart, Kelly West Pfaffenbach.