It’s been four years since mom passed on and I remember we were practically enemies then. I hated the sight of you. I didn’t even bother to tell you; you found out on Facebook. I was so bitter. Friends came over, gave their condolences and left. You, however, just appeared one morning and stayed.
You put your life on hold for me. Sleeping on mom’s bed with you and remembering what a remarkable woman she was. I never felt alone because you were there. The nightmares I had trying to understand why God had to take her. ‘Friends’ don’t know half of what I went through but you do because you were there.
I remember this one time I couldn’t sleep in the dark and you woke up, held me and told me to cry. I refused to cry. I was so angry with so many unanswered questions. Why did He take her? Why did she let go? We needed her so badly! You broke down as I spoke and cried. I held you tightly. I always knew you loved me, but right there and then I understood what it meant for someone to walk in your shoes. Because the pain you felt was deeper than what I felt.
I lost my mom but you lost a whole lot more. You were going through a rough patch but my mom said she was there for you no matter what. For me she was my mom. Yet for you, she was everything you ever wanted in a parent. She was your best friend, your pillar of strength and shoulder to cry on. There were times when she couldn’t have a cup of coffee without you there. You would go shopping together and do what mothers and daughters do, something I never embraced or maybe I thought she’d always be there. You made every moment with her count.
Today I want to say thank you for always being there for me. I’ve lost people I thought I could never live without. I sidelined you so many times yet when things go sideways you’re the first person I call. Whenever I feel like giving up, I always hear you automated voice telling me “You’re no quitter”, and when I mess up you always say “How do we fix this?”
You said things get worse before they get better. As I’m going through everything I’m reminded of how much I’m lucky and blessed to have you. Sometimes I even forget we met at a braai, half drunk, and were inseparable. It feels like I’ve known you all my life.
I’m glad we’re not best friend anymore. You’re that pillow I cry on at night, my up when I’m down, my mom, my sister, and wine glass. My double shot whiskey on the rocks. I love you bestie. I can only wish that one day I’ll be half of what you have been to me.
Tell us: How do you feel after reading the letter to Portia?