On this day.
One year ago exactly.
I was sitting on a comfy couch.
I had an adorable little boy fast asleep on my lap.
My rock, the person who became my best friend, was sitting in her recliner to my right.
She was wrapped in her favorite blanket.
We were talking.
We always had the best girl chats late at night.
But this time, our conversation, was about me.
My anxiety was raging. I was anxious all of the time.
She was the only one who knew the level I was struggling at.
She always had a way of knowing what you needed far before you did.
She blatantly told me that only time she saw me happy was in two places.
The first at home with our families.
The second with my coach friends.
She wasn’t wrong….it’s true I am not happy being away from my loved ones.
Being a traveler isn’t a glamorous lifestyle.
It’s actually prevented me from major life decisions and choices.
But what she said next, I’ve carried close to my heart every single day.
She said, “Gina, this coach thing, it’s for you.”
She continued, “It’s time to take it seriously, you’re going to do something big.”
She ended it the only way she could, “Get a damn business page and get on it.”
My friend was dying and she took time to tell me she believed in me….
Our last private conversation, was about me, something I felt so selfish for.
But she wouldn’t have it any other way.
She was fighting harder than ever and she just wanted to feel “normal.”
It tears me apart knowing that a year later these conversations are held at a cemetery.
When I go to her for advice, I look at a headstone with her beautiful face.
We knew, we weren’t naive. Her fight was intensifying.
But the hope never faded even in her final moments.

This year has been hell, there’s no pleasant, kind or gentle way to say that when you lose someone who was a pivotal part of your existence you’re never the same again no matter what someone tells you. There’s major adjustments, there’s a lot of anger along with a roller-coaster of emotions you may not have even known you were capable to experiencing. But you’re forced to. On any given day, a scent, a picture, a quote, or a passerby can evoke the most unpleasant of these emotions.
In this year, a significant amount of people have told me about their loved ones, they’ve told me their stories of painful losses, their experiences, their effect and most importantly their love for that person. If you would ask me if I would have ever known this would be my position, the inspirer to those who’ve lost loved ones and the person to help them establish lifelong memories so they never have to forget these beautiful moments sitting on a couch…I would never have known.
But that’s me. I inspire strength in others because of pain. It’s not an easy path or position. Some people meet it with resistance, others are still figuring our their foundation. It’s one of those things that doesn’t have a time frame. You cannot tell someone in a year or even five years that they’ll “be okay” because that’s not your place to decide. Grief leaves you with a forever timeline, a timeline that for the rest of your life you will face. It doesn’t get easier, and for every person who tells me that I just kindly say, “thank you.” It never get easier watching your world become shattered, what does occur is an adjustment over time.
The person you were doesn’t exist, but over time, for me, it’s forced me into this position, the position I was destined to be in even if I still question my strength on my weakest days. To think my course of life was so greatly affected in the most positive and compassionate ways because of my beautiful hero enables me to be more resilient than ever. On the days I want to quit, I push, the workout I don’t feel like doing, I do, because I know someone out there needs me as much as I need them.

In the beginning, I would search Google for articles, steps and pathways on how one handles a loss like this. Honestly, they were all the same. Article after article talked about how you always remember you’re not alone, that the person you’ve lost is always with you, respect the pain…blah, blah, honestly, blah. In the midst of the pain raging inside, the last thing a person who is grieving needs to hear is another bland statement. Yes, we know you’re trying to be kind, but when you haven’t experienced this kind of loss, it’s impossible to truly understand.

If you’re not as fortunate as I was, your boss may not be understanding about your loss because it was a friend, not a family member. But the reality is she was family, her family became my family, and I respected her and them as family. To some a friend doesn’t carry as much importance as family, but that’s where society is wrong. We do not live in a traditional world where everyone has siblings, grandparents or even parents for that matter. So for those of us who know loss, our friends do become family, they become a crucial part of our existence. No one has to validate your friend’s importance in your life and no one has the right to question that loss. Period.

When you lose a friend, in my particular situation, too young to cancer, it leaves you in a place where support is necessary but is not always found in the manner you may need. It’s hard for those remaining in your life to understand if they haven’t experienced this same loss. They respect your loved one, they support you and want to be there for you. For the ones who aren’t experiencing the grieving process, they may distance themselves. For your fellow friends who are also hurting, it can be difficult to be there for each other and you may experience your grief in very different ways. No matter their responses, it’s incredibly important to make an effort to maintain relationships. Offer your support to your fellow friends, even a simple text message can mean the world. It’s easy to feel alone in this scenario even if you’re surrounded by caring people. So be kind to others.

When you lose your rock, your go to person for life, the person you go to for breakups, family problems, work troubles, financial stress, illness and loss….that person is suddenly gone. It’s going to make you feel alone, desperate even for comfort and compassion. Devastation is a common feeling. If you’re like me, you’re a person of routine and you’re going to find yourself calling or texting them…and mid-dial the tears stream down your face. It’s more than adjustment, it feels like a different life. It’s okay if you need space, have to pull back and give yourself time. You have every right to feel the way you feel and deserve the time to properly grief. Don’t let alone tell you differently.

Weird, right? But honestly not really. When you experience a loss of a friend, especially so young, you start thinking about death. It may makes you feel self-involved, but that’s not the case. We tend to surround ourselves with people who are similar to us. So it’s normal to actually thing about this. Our time is truly not ours, we won’t know where, or when, on what day or what time. That’s not for us to know, so when you lose a friend it can force you to live a more fulfilled life or live in fear. So live in fulfillment, they would want you to.

You’re probably wondering what the hell, now what, this did not make me feel better. When I started to respect the fact that I wasn’t going to wake up and “just feel better” the true process of grieving started. With that came a wave of emotions, situations I formed in my head and eventually gaining the courage to return back to the places that were special.

People will say stupid things. People will say incredibly impactful things. Be gentle. It’s incredibly hard to be the friend, family member, significant other of someone who just lost their young friend to cancer. People are going to try, really hard if you’re lucky like me, to comfort you with food, feelings, blanket statements and kindness. Let them. It’s not your job to make them feel better, you’re grieving, but they’re going to help you in more ways than you know. They know your situation, let them in… even if it’s a little.

Death brings out the best and worse in people, it’s painful to think that loss can actually break further relationships apart, but it does happen. Closure, in my opinion, doesn’t exist, it took me a long time to swallow that reality and it burned on the way down. Your grieving process does not have a timeline. Take your time. Be gentle with yourself and your heart. Guilt is normal. Anger is normal. Depression is normal. You will always want more time, wish you would have sent that message, made that phone call, stopped over one more time. But your person knows that you gave your all and they are grateful.

Faith, it may fade, strengthen or disappear. It’s incredibly painful to justify how someone could fight so hard, and in the need this is the reality. The beauty in faith is that it’s meant to be questioned. It’s okay to talk with your God, higher power, whatever your belief system is and request strength. It took me a long time to get the courage to walk back into the church where my friend’s funeral was had.

Am I crazy? Find yourself saying this? Laugh, it’s okay, you’re not. Your life just drastically changed. Know that you’re still there, a part of you is gone and that can make you feel insane. If you start to question your purpose, your passion, your life, know that the person you went to for advice will always be with you, just reach out, they’ll send signs.

Holidays & milestones- they force you to remember your last ones with your friend. My friend passed right before Christmas, it makes the season bittersweet. It makes me replay our final weeks, days and minutes. Grief will trigger. Emotional outbursts will occur. Let it out. Do not allow yourself to hold in the pain for too long. Things will never be the same and in my opinion they never should, that person was a huge part of your life and they will always impact it and your decisions

Yes, they do exist. “Life is a process of becoming. A combination of states we have to go through. Where people fail is that they wish to elect a state and remain in it. This is a kind of death.” ~Anais Nin

Coping with the forced loss of loved one is incredibly difficult. Initially your sense of peace, comfort and your purpose will seem distorted. The future may not be what you expected and you may find yourself longing for a past that no longer is present. At first, you may you may focus on the loss and everything that went with it. The possibilities that seemed endless, the experiences you felt they deserved, and in my friend’s case the family including her son she had to leave…they may cloud your focus and anger you.

As this journey with grief continues, I have learned that my friend and I am sure the person you lost you already know isn’t gone they have just changed. They are there, they become the sun on a rainy important day, they become the cardinal sitting on the branch while you visit at the cemetery, they become the new friend you didn’t even know you needed. Life is a constant change, we at times meet with resistance, we found comfort in their existence and now find pain and uncertainty.

Change, we must. Nothing is ever lost in this universe. Our friend is now our energy. They are present and can be intensified by respecting their wishes, remembering them at milestones and holidays and living with kindness and selflessness (if your friend is as amazing as mine). Peace is being found in knowing that the life lessons my friend taught me, the people she has brought into my life and the improved reality as a result of our friendship forever lives.

Nothing will change the situation, there is no power in us to bring them back. Instead we are forced to cope, change with the situations and forever live fulfilled with each day we are blessed. If you have lost someone, know they are not gone, their presence has changed, but they are here. Instead of dreaming about the things I wished we could have done, I talk about her, I tell stories and I remember the principles she lived her life by and incorporate them in mine.