“In this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes.”
.….Benjamin Franklin
We all know death is coming at some point, but we don’t want to think about it, much less talk about it - even though circumstances demand we should for so many reasons (which I won’t go into here).
Luckily, I did not grow up in that kind of family. Death is part of life and as a Catholic, a continuation to a better place, a place where we will be reunited with the people we love. Death was openly discussed, along with final wishes, and planned for.
If we’re lucky, we have our grandparents and parents in our lives for a long time. When they pass, especially if they are older and have led a long life, while we still mourn them, we can more easily accept the loss.
This is not true, however, when you lose someone younger; they should have had more time. And if they are your contemporary, it feels too close to home. And you feel robbed of the times ahead you were planning for the future.
This is what I am going through now.
I met Mary 50 years ago in February 1976, during our freshman year at Hunter College. She was from Queens; I was from Brooklyn. We were both still living at home.
We became fast friends!
She was sweet, kind, non-judgmental, generous, quiet, thoughtful, and had the biggest heart you can imagine.
We had one class together, three times a week, and hung out on campus in between other classes and our part-time jobs. Sometimes on weekends, we’d meet at places like Maxwell’s Plum (a famous singles bar on the Upper East Side of Manhattan in the 1970s). Or go to dinner and a movie.
We even went on spring break together to the Bahamas - but trust me, it’s not anything like spring break is today! We were both nice, Catholic girls! For us, it was exciting enough to drink piña coladas by the pool and gamble at the casino. We felt so grown up!
Things changed in our junior year when we declared our majors: me, theater, and Mary, nursing. Unfortunately, however, the nursing school campus was down at Bellevue Hospital, two+ miles from the main campus.
It may not seem like a big deal, but communication back then was nothing like it is now. We did not have cell phones, texting, or email. Or even an answering machine! The only phone number that was a constant in our lives was our parents’ home phone numbers.
By now, I was living on the Upper West Side and between school, work, private lessons and performances, I was never home anyway - except to sleep.
We still kept in touch and saw each other - but less frequently. Then, I went to drama school in London, and she was in the throes of nursing school. By the time I returned, we pretty much lost touch.
Now fast forward to the fall of 2021. I am retired and living in Italy. One night, quite late, while I just about to fall asleep, Mary’s name suddenly popped into my head. I sat up in bed and grabbed my phone.
Luckily, she did not have a common maiden name, and through numerous searches on the Internet, I was able to find her email address!
I emailed her and within five minutes, she replied! We exchanged several emails, and then moved to text. We had a lot of catching up to do!
When I returned to NYC at the end of February, we already had a date on the calendar to meet for lunch!
We met at Little Poland, a wonderful Polish coffee shop in the East Village. Our friendship fell right back into place as if no time had passed. We were there for hours.
A man sitting near us, who overheard various parts of our conversation, commented about our relationship. He said it was obvious we were very close, maybe sisters? And then we told him our story.
Little Poland, East Village, NY
With most of my family living outside NYC or overseas, Mary and her family adopted me for all the major holidays. Like Mary, her sister, as well as her children and their families were warm and welcoming. I never felt like an outsider and looked forward to every holiday.
Christmas 2023
After we found each other, we fell into the habit of texting each other first thing in the morning, to say good morning, to check in, and to share the news of the day.
If I didn’t hear from her in the morning, I wasn’t terribly concerned. I am typically up at 4 or 5 AM and would often fall back asleep after texting her. She sometimes had early appointments or would take a walk to get coffee. And with all my traveling, we were often in different time zones.
When her sister called me, I was on the West Coast visiting a good friend. It was rare for her sister to call me; she would typically text. So I waited until I was in a private place to listen to the voicemail message.
I was not expecting to find out that Mary had passed that morning. I knew she wasn’t feeling well the past few days, but I had chalked that up to the horrible smoke in New York due to the Canadian wildfires. She had some ongoing respiratory problems and in times like those, she was basically a prisoner in her apartment, sticking close to her oxygen tank if she needed it. I assumed her sister was calling to tell me she was admitted to the hospital.
But this??? This was too much for me to fathom. Too much for me to absorb. Too much for me to accept. Not only is she too young, but I’ve only had her back in my life for five years! It just isn’t fair. She had plans. We had plans.
A million thoughts ran through my head. A million questions. How did it happen? How are her children? Her granddaughter? What will I do without her - and - her devoted sister who saw her almost every day? The loss is monumental for all of us.
It’s still too fresh. In my state of half-sleep at 5AM every morning, I still reach for the phone.
And then I remember.
I saw a cardinal the other day in a tree by my apartment. I think it was her. I saw a rainbow that evening and her son said it was a sign from her.
I do believe the souls of those we have a strong connection to come to see us. It has happened to me numerous times in the past.
I pray she had a safe and peaceful passage. I know there were many people she loved waiting for her.
She will be missed by many, but she will live on in our hearts and through her stories - which we will tell to keep her memory alive.
I know we will be united again one day - just like we were five years ago. But right now, it just hurts.
For all of you reading this, make the call, send the text, schedule the lunch. Make time to spend with the people you love.
And live your life to the fullest, every day.
Mary, my dear friend, rest in peace.
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