Three Questions

I am sad.

I received a message today that a dear friend of mine passed away last night. She has been fighting cancer for quite some time now, and I could say that it was a good fight.

We never really met, although we've been talking to each other for years now. If I am not mistaken, we met around year 2000 online and I think the communication was unintentionally broken somewhere around 2004 or 2005 when I kinda went offline most of the time. Then, I think we rekindled our communication when our friend succumbed to cancer I think in 2006. She was the one who broke the news to me. But the communication stopped there again.

We found each other again on Facebook last year. At that time, I have been seeing her updates and I thought I always saw something more than what she said. But I didn't ask. I learned to respect other people's different ways of dealing with whatever they are going through, so I figured it best to just let it be.

Until.

Until that time that she heard that I was on the same boat with her. I, too was diagnosed of the big C but was cleared after my December CT Scan. I got a message from her inquiring about my condition, replied that I am 'off the hook' and asked her how was it to be in this roller coaster ride. We called it 'our roller coaster ride' because we find it awkward to call it cancer. I asked how it was like to be in the ride longer than I have just been. She never really answered the question directly, but we started to talk about a lot of things. After a while, for some reason, we moved to e-mailing. Chatting was never our choice anymore. We found it more convenient to e-mail. And since it's not like we know each other personally and that we have yet to know more, we eventually wrote on our e-mails' subject: Three Questions. This is a move I initiated. On each e-mail, I could ask three questions about anything about her.

The only thing I feel like saying is the answer to this question: What is the newest thing you own? She said: pants and pullovers and a blue Samsonite shoulder bag. I colored it red because that's how she answers my e-mails. She inserts it in my letter and colors it red to signify that it's her reply.

My last question to her was: How was your summer when you were young? (I'm sure this would be worth more than three questions.)

She never got to answer this. But I got one last group e-mail from her for April. She wasn't pretending she was fine, nor was she pretending she was sick. It was just an update.

On her March update (a group e-mail again), she ended it with hoping for better days.

Now, she's gone.

And I still hope for better days.

My friend, here's to our happy, sad, roller coaster ride.