I met Nancy in tenth grade. It was my second year in a public school. I attended catholic schools from first to eighth grade and then I transitioned to the public school system. Let’s just say, it was an eye opener.
Nancy was tall, blonde and had the prettiest blue eyes. I was tall, brunette, and have hazel eyes. We were complete opposites, yet somehow we found each other.
My fondest memories of high school involve Nancy. I could talk for days about our shenanigans and how she made me get up to watch the Royal wedding of Prince Charles and Lady Diana. She said it was history in the making and we were gonna be a part of it.
Nancy was smart, quirky, loving, kind, and I couldn’t have asked for a better best friend to do those years alongside.
She was one of the reasons I went in the military. If she were here, she’d tell you she never said we should go into the Air Force and I would argue otherwise. Like I had the idea on my own to join the military. I think not!
Every time I came back home on leave, I made sure a visit with Nancy was included. Over the years we kept in touch over the phone. That is until one phone call where it didn’t end well. It wasn’t a bad conversation per se, but it caused a bit of a rift between us. I remember it well. My marriage had ended and life seemed awful, and she said, “I think you’re depressed, Patty”. I responded with, “Ya think’? I was short with her and since I was at work, I told her I needed to get off the phone.
I went by Patty growing up. You can always tell who knew me during a phase of my life by the name they call me. I went from Patty, to Pat and now I go by Trish. Patricia is such a versatile name.
I don’t remember how many months passed without us talking. But it was more time than had ever passed between our calls. Then I got a message from a friend and it said I should call Nancy because she was sick. Really sick.
My heart fell and I immediately called Nancy. I was devastated to hear she had pancreatic cancer. She told me it took a long time for the doctors to figure it out and by the time they found it, she was already stage 4.
I didn’t have much understanding about cancer but I knew stage 4 was bad. We talked several more times before her passing. But, it was the last phone call that sticks we me the most. She was in the hospital. She wanted to talk with someone because she couldn’t sleep. She knew it was too late to call anyone near her, but in AK, where I was living, she knew I was 4 hours behind.
She sounded tired. She talked about what the cancer took from her. How she wouldn’t wish this on her worst enemy and how much she had worried about her weight all her life. And now, even a size 0 was too big for her. She longed for the days she was heavier. Like the majority of us, she worried constantly about her appearance and wasted so much time on how others viewed her, and how she viewed herself.
Don’t get me started on the daily battle we all face battling self-image. It makes my blood boil.
I digress. The conversation took a turn and she asked me how I was doing. I don’t remember what I told her, but her response to was, “If my having cancer helps you know how special you are, it’s worth it.”
Here my very best friend was lying in a hospital bed, dying, and she was more concerned for my well being than hers. She went on to say she was praying for me. After that she was finally tired enough to sleep, so we hung up and I bawled my eyes out.
That was the last time I ever heard her actual voice. But I can still hear her in my heart. Every once in a while I find myself humming that stupid tune to the Post Raisin Bran commercial. In my humble opinion that song was horrendous. Why?!! Why did she love that song? I can’t answer that, but I know she found it hilarious. Maybe she sang it because she knew I hated it. Whatever the reason, just like Nancy, it’s stuck in my heart and my brain.
And, since I love to share, let me leave you with this blast from the past, compliments of my bestie Nancy!
“More raisins, much more raisins, more raisins, than you have ever seen before.” If your curiosity has gotten the best of you, then by all means, please watch the commercial by clicking the link. It’s even worse than the song. I promise.
PS…please don’t worry so much about the small stuff. In the end, I guarantee, it’s not what you’ll be worried about in the least bit. Be kind to the body that you’ve beaten up verbally and maybe even physically. It’s the only one you got and it’s precious in every way.
Blessed to be Broken 