I Said Goodbye To My Best Friend of 25 Years
Now I'm trying to figure out who I am without her.
I love the start of a new year. New Year’s Eve is one of my favorite holidays. I live for a fresh start. For new goals. A fresh planner with blank page after blank page, just waiting to be filled with exciting events and ambitious to-do lists.
But 2024 did not start the way I hoped or dreamed.
Yes, I bought a new planner. I went through my collection and picked out which colorful pens I’d use for each month. I enthusiastically took on a load of January assignments after two weeks off for the holidays in December. I was rested. I was ready. I was so burnt out by the end of 2023, but by January 2nd was returning to work bright-eyed and excited to write again.
Then Mark got sick.
Then I contracted a strain of whatever he’d had.
Then I felt better and had one of the busiest work weeks of my life.
And then Tina died.
Tina and I have been best friends since we were seven and it was a really happy coincidence that we happened to live down the street from one another growing up. We’d walk to each other’s houses on the weekends. Our parents would drop us off after school on weekdays. We were in most of the same classes in elementary school. We went to the same church. Wherever I was, there was Tina, and vice-versa.
I could write a book of all of our memories. I could probably write several. Most of the stories would end in us bending over, holding our bellies, hysterically laughing. Some would end in tears. We were there for each other’s biggest and smallest moments; the highest highs and the lowest lows. There were years we grew apart, but we always found our way back to one another. That’s what family does.
And she is my family.
We became each other’s family, and each of our families - immediate and extended - claimed us as one of their own. She was an honorary member of my huge Irish and Czech clans, and I was an honorary member of her enormous Egyptian dynasty. I picked up a bit of Arabic (I’m, admittedly, rusty these days), and she indulged in big Sunday Irish-inspired breakfasts. Her mom became a second to me, and mine a second to her. Sleepovers were frequent, late nights during which we’d stay up talking about everything and anything. There was always a cup of tea with her name on it at my house, and a mortadella and cream cheese pita sandwich waiting for me at hers.
Tina passed away unexpectedly on January 22nd. She was born on February 29th, 1992. She would have turned 32 this month. Or, 8, as we would have joked.
That afternoon, I received a phone call from her cousin, Olivia, who gave me the news. Unsurprisingly, I didn’t want to believe it. When a second of her cousins, Gina, called me to relay more details, I put the phone on speaker. I asked Mark to listen and to tell me if there was any chance it was some sick AI scam. I wanted to believe it wasn’t real. That this was all a nightmare and I would wake up.
I waited to wake up.
I had to wake up.
But it wasn’t a nightmare. This is my real life. In the days that followed, I saw my best friend lying in a casket. I sat in the pew of her funeral. I wrote a memorial message to her on Instagram. I joined a grief and loss support group. The sun didn’t come out from the day she died up until just a few days ago. It was as if the Earth was mourning with me. I’ve never known darkness like that.
I’ve lost many people in my life. Some I was extremely close to, like my Uncle Bernie, my Aunt Sharon, my Nana and Papa, and Uncle Jerry. Each one hurt and altered my world. But Tina’s death… Tina’s death shattered me. It has changed my life. A part of me is gone. It’s like I’ve lost a vital organ and I have to learn how to breathe without it. It’s left me re-evaluating who I am and what I want to do with my one precious, fragile life.
Tina gave a toast at my wedding. The speech was 4 minutes long, the majority of which she spent thanking me for our friendship. I know I told her a few million times how much I love her over the past 25 years. I know that she knows how much I adore her. How much she means to me. How much our once-in-a-lifetime friendship has meant to me. But if I had known that at 32, I would be without her, I would have told her a few million times more.
So if you’ve been wondering where I’ve been, why you haven’t heard from me in weeks, now you know. I have been mourning the tragic loss of my Tina. I shut down. I haven’t been writing. I haven’t been reading. I haven’t been doing much of anything except binge-watching old seasons of Degrassi and old favorite movies.
I’ve been reflecting. I’ve been crying. I’ve been missing her so much I physically ache.
But lately, I’ve been doing better. The sun finally came out. The skies turned blue again. I’ve been finishing some assignments and rescheduling meetings. I’ve left my apartment and worn something other than black or pajamas.
I’m not ready to move on, but I’m ready to start healing. I’ve been laughing and smiling more. I miss and think about Tina every day. I look at our pictures. I scroll through our conversations. But I know that Tina wouldn’t want me to stay drowning in the sadness. I know she wants me to be happy. To live my life. And part of me is scared of the day when 24 hours go by and I haven’t stopped to think of her. I know it will come eventually. That’s just what happens.
But it’s not forgetting.
I’ll never forget her.
Tina has been with me through all of my moments - big and small.
She still will be.
She still is, right now.
My heart aches for you, Julia! To say I'm so incredibly sorry for your loss just isn't enough. Praying for you, your family & Tina's family! Sending so much love, light & healing your way. 🙏💗🙏💗
Such a beautiful tribute. I'm so sorry for your loss Julia ❤