She's gone.

She's gone.  I can't believe a month has passed and she's gone.  I thought she was here another week, or at least through this week, but no. . . she's gone.

She's gone to a good place, nothing bad.  Not death, nor hospital,nor anything like that, she's just not here.  I saw her once and thought for sure I'd see her again, but nope - life got away from us both.  She's gone.

Who is she?  She is a force to be reckoned with.  She is my friend, but its strange.  She's my friend, but not in a friend way.  We are much different but very much the same.  She is in her 20's and I - well - I'm not.  She's single, I'm not.  She's a student, I'm not.  Yet, somehow we have connected - like a soulmate.  I get her.  She gets me.  Sometimes without saying a word.

I worked with her at my current job.  I joined the team we were on and she seemed to be the one with the voice.  She was knowledgeable and willing to help.  She seemed magnetic, people were drawn to her.  Her smile and laughter were contagious.  I remember the day we connected.  I mentioned to her that I was from Iowa.  She then told me that her aunt lived in the same town I was raised in.  Listening to her description, I was able to identify exactly where her aunt lived.  Connection made!  How strange is it that something like that one little thing in common made a connection.  It was from there that we began this what we call a friendship.

Her dad passed away a few years ago, and he was her hero.  Her conversations proved that, her motivations the same.  She was crazy about him, and he instilled in her a knowing that she could accomplish anything she set her mind to.  Her mom is a hard worker, and stepped up to provide for my friend and her brother.  Her mom stepped into the dad role as well with two kids in college, grieving and lost and empty, and feeling the same herself.  

Her dream was to be a doctor.  Her dad was so excited about that, and it became his dream for her as well.  Just before her testing for med school her dad passed away.  Her grief caused her scoring to be too low for entrance.  She was devastated, and felt she let him down.  But just as she always does, she picked herself back up and began studying again to retake the test.  Of course, this was all before I knew her. 

For a while she almost gave up on that dream.  She teetered between other occupations, walked thru her grief held her mom's hand as she walked thru her grief, and somehow managed to live life.  I remember the day she broke down at work.  People are rude, especially where their money is concerned.  It was early on a Saturday and a client began accosting her, calling her names - telling her how stupid she was - and she lost it. She took off to the bathroom, and I was summoned to go check on her.  We stood in the bathroom, not really saying anything, just two bodies understanding, not alone.  I put my arms around her for a minute.  She gathered herself up, and back to work we went.  Growing up and maturing into a adult is not for cissys.  

She was prepared to take her test again.  She had studied like a crazy person and had taken quite a bit of grief from her peers for not doing the things that 20-somethings do, but she was committed.  The night before her test, she left work only to go home and find that her house had been robbed.  Her computer, her camera, her jewelry - all sorts of things . . . gone.  More than the things, she felt violated.  The night before her test, when she needed to revisit her notes, and have a good meal, and get a good nights sleep.  Not happening.  She took her test and then fell apart.  She waited and waited and waited for her results.  Needless to say her scores were not what she was wanting, and her applications to colleges were one rejection after another.

She never gave up.  She was so excited when she received her acceptance letter from a medical school in the Carribean.  She did the necessary prep work, and prepared for med school outside of the United States.  It has been a challenge for her.  Her concern for her mom and her brother can't be met due to the distance and she has to rely on skype, mail, and internet to keep connected with them.  The life on the island is nothing shy of jungle like!  The goats run free, and they can't drink the water.  The entire island is on a hill and the physical demands are crazy.  They don't get regular food, and laundry is a big issue.  The humidity and the rain and the hurricanes have been a shock to the desert girl . . .. and the bugs and the mold . . . . shock.  Roommates are hard, and priorities are different.  Home seems like a lifetime away.  

But she's there.  She's doing what she has to do to achieve her dream, and to honor her father.  She sends me lengthy emails somewhat like a journal and when i read them I feel like I'm in the room with her.  They are filled with pain, and discomfort, and stretching, and growth.  A longing to be near what is familiar and comfortable, and loved ones.  Lonely.

I can honestly say that this girl and I have probably only spent as many times together as what I can count on one hand outside of work.  When she comes back during breaks she has so many things to do.  Shopping for the next semester, time with friends, bonding with her mom as the healing continues, and rest - much needed rest.  I love it when I get to spend a few hours with her, looking at her and seeing the young woman she is transforming into.  I got to spend an entire day with her this time - it was so fun.  We baked and talked and ate, and watched Modern Family together, and laughed and laughed and laughed.  

What a doctor she will be.  There is something to be said about being away from any and all creature comforts.  It causes you to draw from deep in your bones and persevere.  Many give up, many don't have the moxy to carry thru.  Many become callous, many resort to substances to fill those voided areas of their life.  But she.  She is standing the test of time.  She is allowing herself to feel the pain of emptiness, and dealing with it head on.  She is putting her nose to the grindstone and giving it her all.  She is living in sub human conditions to do what she believes she is called to and what will bring honor to her parents name.  Its those things that will make her a good doctor.  Its those things that will give her an understanding of the heart of her patient, rather than treating symptoms and conditions.  She's down three semesters, and has a long way to go.  But she's doing it, and each semester she comes back stronger and more mature and more humble.  

She's gone.  She left last night and I'm sad.  This girl who I don't know what to call, my friend - my nonbirth daughter - my soulmate - she's just mine.   And while I haven't spent much face to face time with her, I miss her like mess when she's away.  I wait and wait for her emails, and look for her on skype just to see her face and know she's ok.  A connection.  We are connected and there is no explanation as to how or why.

What has she taught me?  She has taught me to never ever miss an opportunity to connect.  She has taught me what it looks like to chase your dream regardless of the cost.  She has taught me what it looks like to grieve but grieve by moving forward.  She has experienced things I haven't even with the difference in our age.  I've never lost a parent.  I've never been robbed.  I've never lived outside of the US.  I've never went to college.  I've never chased a dream.  I have alot to learn from her.  

Thank you Gauri, for being in my life.  Thank you for taking the interest in me and my life so that we could connect by a very simple thing like a street in Iowa.  Thank you for being you, and investing in this relationship of ours that really can't be identified.  Thank you.

Thank you, for being . . . you.