And I was just thinking of sending her an e-mail a day after she left.
I wanted to ask her how she's doing.
I wanted to know if we could finally visit her.
If she's finally well enough to accept visitors.
I wanted to feel again her special kind of friendship, our special kind of friendship.
After all, we havent seen her for more than two years.
Though we have closely communicated per email, that's not enough, of course.
I wanted to see her again. I wanted to give her a hug. I wanted to hear her.
I wanted to show off the girls.
How grown up they are.
I wanted to thank her for her help.
How her words and her recommendations were followed.
That last email that I wanted to send her?
It was supposed to comfort her, to tell her we are continuously praying for her.
I wanted to show her that she is not alone. That even though she is too sick, too weak, too weary; people who love her wouldnt want to miss being with her. Just being there.
And now, I could only write this blog post. In the hope that she would be able to read it.
Dear Renate, it was a shock to read your obituary in the newspaper yesterday. But it is good to know that your pain is gone. We are happy that we have shared special memories with you. I am sure, wherever you are, love sorrounds you. You might want to keep your eyes on us, once in a while; to keep us from being naughty. Or else we wont receive that special homemade Christmas card tucked with special Christmas stories created by you year after year. I know, I know, you see, I am hoping I would look up in the sky and find your signature there, too! We wont forget!