Tuesday afternoon I got a phone call – a scary phone call. The kind of phone call that changes your life. What I first heard was that my friend Debbie’s husband had been in a motorcycle accident. A bad one. I called Lois and then I called Sharon. And I braced myself for what I thought would be the worst – helping Debbie cope with whatever had happened to Steve. And then the phone rang again and I found out that it was actually Debbie who was in the accident. And she didn’t make it.
My dear sweet beautiful friend was coming home from work on her motorcycle and she was hit by a gigantic SUV. She didn’t have a chance, according to what we’ve been told. It wasn’t long after getting the final phone call when Sharon and Lois and Wendy and our other friends were gathered on my deck. And then we all went together to Debbie’s house to offer what little comfort we could to Steve and the rest of Debbie’s family.
I’m trying to be strong but this is a new kind of grieving for me. I’ve lost both my parents and two brothers – one in a motorcycle accident twenty-four years ago. I’ve been to countless wakes and funerals over the years but the loss of a friend, a truly wonderful friend, is a new one for me. And she wasn’t just my friend, she was a friend to Dale and my whole family, too. We camped together and beached together and ate Chinese food together. She was on the beach with me the day I learned to knit. She read this blog and commented frequently. Debbie and her family came to our home every Christmas Eve and they were included in all of our family gatherings.
And every Wednesday night Debbie, Sharon, Wendy, Lois and I gathered to quilt, knit and chat. The five of us talked about everything – politics, religion, family, kids, work, happy things and sad things and scary things. We even joked about what our husbands would do with our stashes if something were to happen to one of us, not that we ever really considered that something actually would happen. Truly, nothing was off limits on our Wednesday nights and we forged an incredible bond with each other. And now one of us is violently, suddenly, just gone.
I feel like things are never going to be the same again.
Loosing such a close friend is surely tragic. Only peace can come from the Lord at times like this. It’s obvious you have been blessed here by so many online friends. Praying your heart heals with time.
I’d like to add my condolences as well. It sounds like a lot of people lost a very special friend. I’m sure your Wednesday night group will help each other through the pain, and eventually your get-togethers will inlcude re-living your memories with your friend.
Carole, I’m so sorry. You’re right; losing a friend is so different than losing an older parent or relative. It’s indescribably painful. My thoughts are with you and with Debbie’s family.
oh carole, i am so sorry for your loss. debbie sounds really special as i know you were to her too. my thoughts are with you.
I’m just catching up and I’m so sorry to read this. Big hugs to you and all involved.
Liz (the crazed weasel) says
Oh, Carole. No, things won’t be the same. They will be different, as you already know. Sending hugs your way, dear lady.
Carole, I’m so sorry to hear this. I worry about exactly this thing whenever we head out on a bike ride: the giant SUV.
Obviously I’ve been MIA for awhile, and I missed seeing this heart-wrenching post about your dear friend. I am so sincerely sorry for your loss. My thoughts are with you, and I hope as time goes on you will find some peace.