Dear friend

I have this friend I've only met twice in my life, but she and I seem to connect on so many levels. For one thing, she is seven days younger than me, so she's a Pisces, a dreamer, an idealist, a leftist, and a jurist-in-training. But most importantly, she and I share similar experiences, fears and traumas of living with a parent with cancer.

I've only met her twice in her life, once at an event, where we only spoke briefly. The second was  earlier this year, when I made a special day trip to just go see her. But we've mailed one another back and forth at regular intervals, and almost always the main topic of our messages is about how our mums are doing.

I look forward to her messages, and read them as if they were written about my feelings, about my dilemmas and insecurities. She writes about how torn she feels having to juggle her professional life and studies with taking care and being there for her mum. I write about my mum's latest chemo treatment, and the heart-wrenching side-effects it has on her, and how helpless I often feel seeing her suffer and in pain. She writes about how it pains her to see her mum so weakened and so changed physically and mentally by the illness. I write about my frightening nightmares, my fears of receiving that phone call one day that may be the last...

Sometimes her messages brings me to tears, and perhaps my words have the same effect on her. At other times she makes me smile and feel warm inside, because she cares about my wellbeing, and about my mum, who she's never even seen before. And I care about her wellbeing, and her mum's health too, for for some reason, reading about her mum's trials and setbacks makes my heart ache, even though I do not know her personally. More than once I have been tempted to write a little card to her mum, to show her support, to tell her to hang on there and not to give up on herself. And last time I saw my friend, my mum actually had a gift to give to her mum-- a bottle of propolis, which works wonders and alleviates pain for patients receiving chemo.

Even though we do rarely meet or see one another, when I read her messages, I am filled with such gratitude, with such a sense of inspiration and encouragement. Perhaps because she manages to strike a deep chord within me, and she lets me know that I am not alone in what I feel, in what I experience.

It is comforting to know that despite the distance and many degrees of separation, despite only have met twice in our lives, we can relate to one another in so many ways.