Until we walk those streets of gold together, rest in peace, dear Debi.

I sat here and looked at my blank screen for quite a while. I want to say so much, but I don't know what to say or where to start. My first best friend, my Sister-Cousin Debi, has gone to Glory.

Its not as if we didn't expect her passing, because we did. We knew this was coming, even with all of the prayers for complete healing, we still knew. And, I daresay, we mentioned to God for His will to be done, knowing that He was finishing his preparation for her to go Home, but still we held out hope.

Debi was released to home hospice I think about three weeks ago, with the warning that she had between 48 hours and two months left. There was hopeful news in there, too...her lungs were clear as a bell. It made me think we were on an upward trend, and encouraged me to continue to pray for healing. But in the back of my mind, I knew. Lord, I knew that her time was limited. So I went down there to her one more time. I spent more time with her...I made her laugh, checked her throwing arm a time or two, and along with her oldest daughter, we introduced her to Jesus, and she accepted His gift of Salvation. So, now, even with her absence and the hole she left in all of our hearts with her passing, we are at peace knowing we will see her again one day...whole and beautiful and without pain.

Debs was a sweet woman, but don't push her...she had a temper. She was fiercely loyal to those she loved and I am thankful I was one of them. Sure, we had our disagreements, but we loved each other always.

At one point, we lost touch for quite  while, but when she and her husband moved in with her Mom in Arizona after her Dad's death, we saw more of each other. We talked on Facebook more. We picked up where we left off, sorta. I mean, we are both older, have Grandchildren, so eating pickles until at least one of us was sick...going to the beach and body surfing, yeah, that was kind of out. Mostly because you don't see many ocean shorelines in Southern Arizona. But we had our good times. Then she was diagnosed with small cell carcinoma after having problems with her back.

Our relationship kicked into high gear from there. I called her often. I went to Arizona more than a once or twice a year because she was sick. I feel like I was being selfish, wanting to get more time in with her. I panicked because I didn't want her to go. I panicked because I didn't know where she stood with God. So we began to have "those" conversations, and most times I would be dismissed. I wouldn't continue, at least during the rest of the time we talked at that particular time, but it would come up at least a few more times in other conversations.

The first time I noticed she was losing her battle was after not being able to get to the phone a few times because of stuff going on here. I face-timed with her and she looked gaunt. Her cheeks were starting to sink in, but her eyes, those beautiful eyes, still sparkled with life, so despite the initial shock, we still had a good conversation. But, each time I called from there, she would get tired much quicker than before. Then I noticed her hair. She would move her head and there would be clumps of hair left on the pillow case. So I started making her caps and sent them to her. One day I called, and her beautiful hair was gone, and I could see the tumors in her head. My heart broke. I didn't think I showed it, but she knew, she saw. She continued to get more frail, and despite my best efforts, I would be shocked at what I saw on the other side of the screen. She was losing the battle. I continued my prayers for healing, even though in my heart I knew...I knew.

Before she came home from the hospital for the last time, our conversations had become five or ten minutes at the most. She would become tired or distracted, a couple of times she hung up on me, not realizing we were talking. When she came home for the last time, I was ready to load Mouse up in the car, along with her home oxygen condenser and take the 18+ hour drive to Arizona. Instead, Chris had taken a couple of vacation days so I could go there and spend as much time as I could with her.

So, now, today, the day after her death, my heart is still hurting, and I know it's not going to heal for a while. I didn't sleep well because of the grief. My heart is breaking for her children, her grandchildren, her Mom, her brother, and her husband. She and her husband would have been married 38 years June 23rd. I can't imagine his grief, and I'm concerned with his health, but he has promised to take care of himself. The good thing is, he lives right next door to my parents, if I have to, I'll go down there to beat him up myself if I find out he's neglecting himself. And he knows I will. And my Aunt...no one should have to outlive their child. She's devastated, I know. This has been an incredibly hard year for all of them.

I guess I'm writing more as a balm for me, and again, I feel incredibly selfish because I'm focusing on my feelings, but I don't know what else to do. I want to tell God that it was too early to take her Home, but in reality, I know it was probably past time. She was hurting and had become so thin that I wondered, often, if she would waste away to nothing. Why. I would get off the phone with her and sob. She would share that she hurt so bad, but she kept it together when we talked. When I left her for the last time, she cried with me, but only for a minute, then she told me that it was going to be okay...we'd see each other again. That she loved me. Then I kissed her forehead and hugged her, ever so gently, for the last time.

God, I know she's Home. My brain knows that, my heart knows that. I am so thankful, Lord, for that slice of lucidity You gave her so that I could introduce Your Son to her, so that she could spend eternity with You. I thank You, praise You, for that, and I thank You that she no longer will have to experience the intense pain that the cancer caused in her body. Thank You that she is whole again. Please help those of us who are left behind to move forward. Help us to heal. Help us to remember her as she was before the cancer took over, and help us to glorify You and praise You for the work that was done in her through Your Son.

We love you, Debi. We will miss you with our whole hearts, but we will see you again.