A Bad News Phone Call

It came late morning. The stage 4 melanoma has finally won. After a two year fight, she has at most two more days. When she was diagnosed, she was already stage 4. There was a fight with getting insurance as she couldn't afford it on her own, finally getting the state to pick up the bill. Medication was prescribed, with the caveat that she could take it as long as she felt like taking it, but when she stopped, it meant she'd have 6 months left. at most. Her means of employment stopped due to Covid, and she moved away to live with her sister and near her mom.

Her name is Brenda. You don't need more than that. I'll give her a last bit of privacy. She was  someone this extended family considered a friend, someone one member thought of as a sister, someone my son gave his whole heart to for years even though he knew and tried hard to accept that she would never fully commit to him.

Both he and one of my stepsons worked by her side at her very last job for several years. She became a member of the auction house team earlier,  how I became well acquainted. But Rich knew her first, working with her for the same boss for several years before all that. She was invited over for backyard family bonfires / weenie roasts. I made sure she knew she was welcomed regardless of what her relationship with my son was at any given time, and it had its rough patches. Some of those I understood completely, some not so much. It wasn't my relationship. When the final breakup came, it sent Richard down here to live with us. It was a bad break, never mended, but she still has Rich's heart.

This household mourns. Some for her death, some for her life and what might have been and never will. But we do mourn, and we do miss her already, even though communication links have long since been broken. Steve and I never got north again to invite her over for a bonfire. An email got a reply that seemed angry and wasn't pursued. Information about her became sparse, then nonexistent.

Until this morning.

Rest in peace, Brenda. You will be remembered, and missed.