My best friend S got cancer in 2023, and it was a rare one. She got better for a while before it got worse and spread to her liver. I prayed hard every day for her to make it through. She continued to inspire me through her ordeal. When she told me about her condition, it reiterated the fact that none of us are here forever. It pushed me into leaving a lowly paid, dead-end job I’d held on to as security for over a decade, to follow my dreams. In her transition, she taught me how to accept death as a part of life and surrender to a higher presence – something I had struggled with for four years now – ever since my GSD Mollie Lou had passed away.
My world has shrunk since she’s been gone. It feels like yet another slash on my soul, after the passing of my dogs and my mother. Most days my brain fogs up and I feel like I exist in a void. Losing a loved one is like someone ripping off your dominant arm. You don’t know how to function, and you can’t. How am I supposed to live without her? As I gaze at her smiling face in a picture taken from the time she visited me in Sydney, and wade through the grief, all I can feel is gratitude to the universe.
For she was one of my life’s greatest blessings. Some friendships are more than a strong bond. Soul contracts, forged over past lives and forgotten till you meet in this birth, and go ‘A-ha, I know this soul. We’ve met before, eons ago, in another lifetime.’ That in a nutshell is how I felt about my best friend. I met S – that’s how I refer to her as she was my ‘sacred space’ – over three decades ago, in 1993, during the course of my work. It was for an interview but for some reason, we stayed in touch. She and I shared a birthday too, nine years apart.
Over time, our friendship grew. She became my go-to for everything from a recipe for pani puri to a skincare brand she could recommend. My relationship problems, issues with the family and my demons – I confided everything to her. The number of times I was privy to her problems was minuscule compared to her listening patiently about the blunders I seemed to make at every turn in my life. She could tell from my hello on the phone whether I was okay or in bad shape. The wind beneath my wings, she became my guru, friend, philosopher, and guide. Her advice morphed into epiphanies and milestones I could mark – which made me grow and change for the better. What was most important was that I felt safe, and heard in her presence.
Just by observing her, I learned a lot. Some things I could practice and make part of my personality – like detachment or a different perspective; but yelling, swearing or being rude to those who go out of their way to annoy me are not traits I can give up. And, nor do I want to. Because through her friendship, I gained complete self-acceptance. Enough for me to accept my inner weirdo and other idiosyncrasies.
She did not make friends easily, so to be considered a close friend by someone of her calibre was for me, a validation of who I was as a person. For, in my darkest moments, when my ex- husband, or later, my ex-partner, said and did things to negate my sense of self-worth, or blamed me for everything that went wrong, I held on to this bond. When I stood on the edge of all reason, wanting to end my life because it seemed the best way out, the fact that she loved me gave me hope, and helped me rise again. I used to tell myself, ‘If someone like her can love me so much, I cannot be what these men make me out to be.’ To borrow from the diva Celine Dion, I can safely say I am everything I am because she loved me.
If you have a bond of friendship that transcends timelines and space; personalities and professions, where you are accepted and loved for who you are and not what you bring to the relationship; cherish it with all your might. Protect it too and give it your all, because life is short and unpredictable. Since I know we have been together in some capacity in past lifetimes, I live with the hope that when my time is up, S will be waiting to greet me on the other side.
Here’s how you can find help when losing a loved one: Grief support
Read more about: Friends and mental health
