I wish I had the words to help heal my beautiful friend’s broken heart… But how do you find the right thing to say when someone you love has just had to bury their beloved mother, a woman who was her sun, stars, moon and sky?
This amazing woman, Maureen Thorn, also meant the world to me, and I too am still in the throes of shock that the world has been robbed of such a kindred, caring soul. Yes, she may have been the mother of my high school best bud, but, as invariably happens as you mature, the parents of your most cherished friends also morph from imposing figures of authority, into firm friends in their own right. Though to be fair Mrs Thorn was never of the unapproachable, intimidating variety – she always welcomed us with open arms and an open mind, and took time out to know us all individually, not just as a rag tag bunch of high school misfits.
She was, in my eyes, “the cool mum”, and the one whose mother/daughter relationship I envied. I developed such an affection for her, and revelled in her warm and nurturing attentions whenever we would meet up over the years. Such was her compassionate spirit that she went to the trouble to send me a heartfelt farewell card as I embarked on my overseas adventure in 2002, something friends my own age wouldn’t have even thought to do… But that just highlighted her sweet disposition perfectly – thinking of others was as natural to her as breathing is to you and me.
When a tragedy strikes at your soul, it makes you stand back and study the blessings you still have. In that light, the fact that my parents, and my husbands parents are still with us, is something I am utterly grateful for. Indeed, having come so perilously close to losing my Dad in early 2002 (thank you again, angels, who HAD to have been looking over him that day), I almost feel guilt for such blessings in the face of my dear friend’s loss. All I can do is hold tight to those people around me that I cherish and not be left stung with unspoken regret.
Time is a great healer, I am told. Just how vast this quantity is required to be before you can resume a semblance of normalcy to your life, I could not know. I can’t offer the platitudes that I know how she is feeling – the truth of it is I cannot come even an inch close to comprehending the terrible pain she is swathed in. Yes, I have suffered the agony of losing loved ones, but burying a beloved parent beats anything I can claim to understand… Daughters need their mothers, whether they are 13 or 32…
If I could do anything to ease her angst, I would in a heartbeat, as I hate feeling so helpless when someone I adore is hurting. I am not sure how I can help, or if the right words of wisdom in the face of such sorrow will ever come to me. I only know that I will forever offer my shoulders for her to stand upon, in the hopes I can once more raise her spirits high.