“Yvette, I knew you would want to know right away that Marlene passed away today.” My stomach clenched, my heart sank and my body became numb. As tears filled my eyes, I tried to contain my emotions. I was about to embark on my long drive home from work and needed to focus.
There wasn’t a day that went by when Marlene wouldn’t say, “Be safe on your drive.” Our friendship spanned over twenty years. We were more than friends, we were family. I knew the time was growing near as her health had become frail, having faced many chronic issues. Each day was a struggle, and it broke my heart to see her this way. Her passing felt surreal.
Arriving home, I quickly made my way across the street as they were removing her from her home. I didn’t want to look as I knew this would be our final goodbye. However, to my surprise, the next morning she paid me a visit. Over the years, we spoke about everything under the sun, including her passing, and that if there were a way she could communicate with me, she would. The agreement was that she would reach down and touch my hand or show up as a cardinal outside my window.
The day after she passed, I scanned through old photos and videos of our adventures and came across a video where we were pretending to be in a rock band – her on the bongo drums and me on the keyboard singing A-ha’s, Take on Me. We could barely hold a note, but we were stars in our minds. I decided to send this video to a group of friends, but I accidentally sent it to my co-workers! One person wrote back saying, “Everyone needs a Marlene in their life.” However, what happened next was astonishing. Within minutes of the video being sent, two of my coworkers set up for a class, and as they turned on the speakers, the exact A-ha song came on! Startled, they shot a video of the moment, and the lyrics playing were, “Take me home… I’ll be gone…” What were the chances? Always intrigued by synchronicities, I had to think, was Marlene trying to communicate with me?
Then, as I stood in my kitchen pondering what had just happened, a squirrel began running back and forth relentlessly on the patio screen just outside my window. Slowly and quietly, I slipped outside to observe. He peeked his head around the corner of the screen, looked right at me, and began chirping. Naturally, I started making chirping noises back to him. This went on for several minutes. Coincidentally, for years, Marlene and I had played the “animal noise” game, even up to the week before her passing. I would call her, and when she answered, I would meow. She would respond with a quack, and we would go back and forth until she would finally say, “Are we done yet?” What were the odds that the squirrel had gotten me outside to “talk” to him?
There are just a couple of the reasons I believe the following morning was our final goodbye. Although there are no more good mornings, no more good nights, and no more I love yous. I was blessed to have decades of friendship. I was blessed to have a friend with whom, as adults, we could still be kids at heart. And, I am blessed to have so many fond memories that will always be alive in my heart. Thank you, Marlene, for a wonderful life with you. Until we meet again, my friend.
“Friendship isn’t one big thing; it’s a million little things.”
I learned a great deal from Marlene over the years. Good friends always surrounded her. She never failed to extend her friendship; therefore, she had many.
Friendships bring joy and happiness into our lives and give us a sense of purpose. Friendships don’t just happen overnight. They are composed of all the little moments along the way. Moments that deepen our bonds.
This statue of Marlene’s resembled her closest of friends at any given time. She kept a note in the middle with a list of names. Even as Marlene aged and friends unfortunately passed away, she never let it go without a complete list of friends.
Now that I have been entrusted with this statue, I will carry on her tradition and legacy, extending my friendship to many as I encourage others to do as well.
