Her Fight Is Over

Today I learned that someone I care about very much died earlier this month.

She was an amazing woman.

I was hoping to get to see her later this year, but now that's impossible. The fact that I'll never get to see her again is just heartbreaking. I also feel guilty because it's been at least a year and a half since I saw her last.

B and I befriended her around the time we began dating. She owned an amazing holistic remedies shop in our small hometown of Belton Missouri. I went to school with her youngest daughter.

She was an incredible woman. Always loving. Very supportive. Very positive. She'd already been fighting cancer before I met her, and on May 5th, 2015, she finally lost her fight against cancer. During the time that I knew her, she had cancer come back multiple times, and had to have several organs and pieces of organs removed.

She had gone into a joint venture with another local shop and massage parlour, had been horribly betrayed and screwed over, but stayed positive, made the best of it, and her shop, much like herself, survived. She was later able to buy a nice, large location, and grow the shop even more. She appeared to be thriving then, even in the wake of another round with cancer.

There are so many things I wanted to talk to her about. So much I wanted to learn from her. So much I wanted to ask. So much guidance I wanted to seek. In the face of great challenges and awful health, she fought on. Strong. Happy. Determined to make the most of it.

She was an inspiring woman, and I wish I could've learned more from her. About life. About living. About never giving up.

And now I'll never get the chance to learn from her again.

I'll never get the chance to drop in on her and wish her a happy birthday, knowing that it's my birthday as well, and feeling a sort of kinship in that.

I should've called her more often, but she was always so busy, and there were so many people that needed her attention. That needed her help. That needed her love, understanding, and sometimes almost over the top optimism and positivity. Whenever I took up her time on the phone, I felt like I was robbing others of her time.

I'm very happy that she was able to live to see her grandchildren before she died. They brought her such joy. I'm glad that in the last several years, her family jumped into the business with her, to offer her more support, but to also learn how to care for and help others the way that she did.

Her family has every intention of keeping the store open, but I don't know if Life Thyme can survive without her. She was Life Thyme. She was the lifeblood of that shop. She was the smiling face that greeted you as though you'd just sat down and shared tea a week ago, even if it'd been months or even years since the last time you saw her.

She remembered every face. They weren't just her customers. They were her friends and her family. She was a very wise woman. A very loving woman.

The world is a much darker, colder place without her shining light.

I will miss you, my dear friend. You will be missed deeply by many. You were a pillar of the community, and a driving force for many in the things you pursued.

I love you, Denise. I love you so very much. I don't think I ever told you that. I'm sorry.

I truly hope that Heaven is a real place. I'm not sure I can cope with the idea of someone like her just vanishing into nothingness in death.

Rest well, good friend. Your battle is over now. You've earned your rest and peace.