Make new friends
But keep thee old
One is silver
And thee others gold.
The circle is round
It has no end.
That's how long
I want to be your friend.
The Lord was so very gracious and worked out every last detail and impressed on my heart as well as Allison's and Anna's that we did need to go visit Becca - and soon.
We were able to walk into the room holding hands and singing an old camp favorite of ours. (the song above)
Our voices broke as she turned to gaze in our direction. She looked so very different than she had just 5 weeks prior when we had spent time with her on our girlfriend's trip in the Cities.
Becca half smiled despite her weak body and we knew she knew it was us. Her girlfriends. The four of us. Each of with our own unique bond and relationship with her and yet intertwined through a place called Box T Bible and Saddle Camp. A place near and dear to all of us where we made many memories and deepened our relationship with our Saviour.
Over the years, we have challenged each other in the Word and pointed each other to Christ. We have made fools of oursleves and laughed till it hurt. We have shared our deepest sorrows, our gaping wounds, and bore our souls to each other. We have celebrated life together, first loves, engagements, marriage, pregnancies, births, first steps, and naughty toddlers, shared marriage and parenting advice, and walked each other through hard circumstances. Break-ups, betrayal, unexpected dissapointments, misscarriages, financial stress, job loss, and that horrible disease called cancer. We did life together. And we did it good. And now I don't know how to live my life because a peice of me, a peice of us, is missing. My best friend. My Robin.
We tried to be as gentle as possible as we crawled into bed beside Becca as her body was so weak and even touch at this point was painful. We cried, tears streaming down our cheeks as we sang, "It is Well With my Soul" and "Amazing Grace." Our voices broke here and there as one of us would not be able to hide the lump in our throats a second longer. A sob would break out and the tears would flow. A perfect example of the foursome. When one of us was weak, the other would be strong.
We were also able to share different Scripture and pray over her. Allison's prayer for her was this: "May the Lord bless you and keep you. May He make His face shine upon you and give you peace." I have no doubt that we all felt His presence in a way that we have never experienced before that day. His face was shining down upon her. I know He blessed her that day and I pray He gave her peace.
We also had some great laughs and giggles that day through the tears as we each shared different memories with her. Our puppy chow fiasco at Box T was just one of many. Preparing for my wedding, Becca had come to stay for a week to help me with all the final details. We ran errands around town and seemed to endlessly be in the car. Thus Batman and Robin was born.
We were able to thank Becca for her friendship, the sacrifices she made for each of us over the years, the little things she did to make us feel so loved and appreciated.
I took her hand as gently as I could and tried to stroke her arm the way she used to love me to do. She would occasionally look at us for a second and make eye contact before closing her eyes again. We knew in those brief seconds she knew who we were, she knew exactly what we were saying, and every once in awhile during our visit she would grin from ear to ear when we told a funny story or shared a memory that had us all in stitches. I teased her about these pictures as we have always taken a photo of the four of us when we're together on the couch. It's tradition. Couch style. But that day, we broke tradition for Becca and as much as it broke our hearts, we piled on that bed, with unabashed joy and took what we knew to be our last photo together, out of our normal order and line-up. But never in my mind was there a more beautiful picture of the four of us. Or of her. My Becca. My Robin. Ready to meet her Jesus.
You see, I don't want to forget that day or even forget how she looked. Broken and weak, yes. Her body eaten up by cancer in the most vicious way, yes. But beautiful and full of joy even on her deathbed. Indescribable beauty in that room as Jesus shone down upon her face as she neared her meeting time with him just 5 days later. My Jesus allowed me the priviledge to say goodbye to the dearest on earth to me, and I am, and will be, forever grateful.
When we finally got up to leave after our final kisses and goodbyes, I walked around to the other side of the bed and knelt down beside her. She turned her head ever so slightly. Before I could get out my last words to her, she found the strength to somehow say, "Thank-you." Go figure. She beat me to it. I wept over her hair and cheeks as I leaned into her ear, and said, "No. Thank-you. Thank-you for being my friend. My Robin. I'll love you forever and ever. You do what you need to do." And I kissed her one last time as I stroked that wild, curly red hair. And I left.
And she met her Saviour 5 days later. Complete and whole, perfect in every way in unimaginable glory. She left this world in the blink of an eye and was met with, "Well done, my good and faithful servant."