My Teacher

I have this post looming. Although I'm positive that I'm not ready to write about it yet, it's looming and I just need to get it out. Get it off my chest, even though one little blog post won't cure this pain. Nothing will.

I have this friend, a fellow blogger. A blogger because I wanted her to start one. Last December after she found out her breast cancer had metastasized in her lung and bone. In September, she found out it had moved into her liver. She wrote a daily blog about her experiences with this. The ups. The downs. The side effects. The shopping, lunches out, and vacation trips. She wrote about it all.

In true Jacque fashion, she used it as a way to teach.
Women with breast cancer found comfort in her posts.
Women of faith marvelled at her strength.
Friends and family hung on her every word.

Today was the last post.

My good friend, mentor, co-teacher, Jacque.
Jacque died on Thanksgiving. She passed away in the hospital, surrounded by her two sons and husband.

She was 54 years old.

The way I hear her laugh in my head right now, as I write.
That is why it hurts so much.
I only got the chance to work with her for four months before she had to leave work for her health. She taught me more in those four months than I learned in 3 years of grad school. Than in 29 years of life.

She was the best teacher.

I didn't want her to go.

Now she's gone. And I keep thinking of things. That I should tell her. That she gave me. That she taught me. That would make her laugh. I keep wanting to call her and tell her.

She had a great laugh.

My friend Jacque is in heaven now.
That's the only thing that gives me a moment's peace. That she's at peace.

The rest, well it sucks.
I realize now that I'm not ready to write this.

I'll just say good-bye to my friend.

Thinking of your laugh tonight has made my broken heart smile.