My mom wrote a beautiful article for my Aunt's new website, Not Done Yet, clothing line she started for the "generation that dreams big, works hard and lives a spirited and healthy lifestyle." My mom's contributed a piece on why she is "not done yet" and chose to write about her dear friend, Carla, who passed away this year after a long, hard battle with cancer. We all miss her terribly -- and I think my mom does a wonderful job explaining why Carla was so important to her and my family:
Carla was my best friend for almost 32 years.
When asked of Aristotle, “What is a friend?” he replied, “A single soul dwelling in two bodies.” This defined the friendship between Carla and me, one that was true, deep and rare.
Carla and I met, fittingly, at childbirth classes. She was the teacher; I was her student. She coached me through the labor of my first child, and her husband, our family doctor, delivered my daughter, and later delivered my son and another daughter. Thus began a beautiful and lasting friendship between our families, and a relationship between Carla and me that became so much more than just a friendship.
Carla and I were, in almost every sense of the word, sisters. Both of us raised three children (supporting each other all the way), we taught in the same school (even walked to work together every day), shared a love of the outdoors and a passion for cooking (and eating!).
Carla and I were inseparable exercise partners. We walked between three and five miles, six days a week, and made a stop along the way at our local gym four days a week. Living in upstate New York means that we walked in rain, shine, cold (below zero!) or snow. Mother Nature couldn’t stop us.
Carla died in May, losing a long and hard fought battle against cancer.
Her absence has left a hole in my heart and a void in my life. But, I am NOT DONE walking. I continue to walk every day, but where there was one partner for me, there are now three. Her daughters relocated here two years ago so they could be close to their ailing mother. They have taken their place beside me. We need each other now, and our daily walks have helped us begin to heal. We laugh, we cry, we talk about Carla, we talk about the young children they are now raising in the same small town Carla and I raised our families. Being with these young women keeps me close to Carla. As it was once said, “When it hurts to look back, and you’re scared to look ahead, you can look beside you and your best friend will be there.”
Carla, and now her three beautiful daughters, will always be there, right beside me.
