Love and Loss...

I feel compelled to share this: I am not religious or even highly spiritual, nor do I believe in reincarnation or subscribe to any metaphysical-related beliefs.

This following story consists of factual information only. Due to the nature of this story I have made an exception in my writing and removed opinions, interpretations and any notions I have developed relating to this story, and leave the reader to develop an unguided view of their own.

Years ago and for a brief period, I moved in with a friend who was about 10 years older and in a very different stage of his life. I had recently graduated massage therapy school and was contemplating becoming a practitioner. My friend was completing his post-doctoral work and contemplating where and with whom he wanted to have and raise a family.

My friend had eventually decided that he would move back home, to Israel. After many years in California this was not an easy choice, but was the right one for who he was and would always be, and so he set the wheels in motion. During the period after his decision he met a woman named Lisette who caused him to question this decision, and nearly reverse it. I remember how he spoke about her with such admiration, respect, and excitement, it was as if she had brought light into the darkest corners of his life.

For Lisette's 40th birthday my friend purchased her a massage session by: You guessed it--me. This was just a couple of weeks after they had met, and she and I had only met once briefly beforehand. I remember little about the session, but that she had a very slight and gentle frame, and yet her body and soul were really connected. The session was great as was her feedback. Afterwards we talked for a while and by the time we were done, we felt very close. We both shared the same hometown, though since she was raised mostly overseas we spoke English with each other. We shared a similar outlook on life, albeit mine was far less composed and enlightened, nor could I articulate these thoughts as well as she could.

In the period leading to my friend's move back home and as he became more involved with his new life, Lisette and I spent more time together forming a wonderful and unique bond. We thought of and even referred to each other as long lost siblings. For the first time in my life I had an older sibling to look up to, and one from whom I could learn so much. We would meet and talk for hours and hours.

Lisette had a bad flu, it was going on a third week, and she was going to see the doctor again. Mid-day she called, she sounded weak, but what was more noticeable and completely out of character for her was that she sounded crushed; "I am at the doctor's, I have Cancer, it's Lymphoma" Lisette said.

Lisette had lost both her mom and a sister to cancer. When her mom passed she was in her early teens, we spoke about this many times before, as being the closest person to Lisette her loss was a huge impact on Lisette's life forever changing her relationship with her family and perhaps the world.

The following weeks we spent planning her battle and even shopping for hats. We were to shave heads together when the time came. But then I had to move for work, for an undetermined period of time. I was gone for nearly six months, during which we often spoke on the phone and emailed each other. I would receive constant updates on the progress she had made, and send encouraging words and talk about plans for life after the battle was won.

When I returned, Lisette had completed both chemotherapy and radiation, her hair was growing back and she looked fairly good, in high spirits. We spent a wonderful sunny day in Sausalito together with my father who was visiting, and my girlfriend (now wife). Lisette was feeling good, with some issues related to the recovery period. So when we spoke on the phone a couple of days later, I was surprised to hear that she had fainted after going to a movie with a friend and was in the hospital for observation. I was leaving the next day to Los Angeles for a few days.

We spoke again the next day, she was concerned and weakened, but did not indicate that there was anything serious going on, and so we made plans to get together upon my return from LA. This was to be our last conversation. Lisette promised to call the next day, she didn't. One more day had passed, and I found myself afraid to call, I gathered the courage and called her room, a female voice answered and identified herself as a friend of Lisette's. Lisette was unconscious, on life support, and her father was coming in from Israel the next day to have her disconnected from the machines. I never made it to the hospital.

Lisette's funeral was in Israel. Her plot was in a section overlooking the beach in our hometown, and the new developments Lisette and I had referred to as 'the ugly structures blocking the beautiful view'. How ironic it was that she was to be placed with their view after we mocked them so. I was among the four to carry the stretcher with her body wrapped in white cloth, she seemed so tiny and light that it felt unnecessary to have all four people--I wanted to just carry her on my own. Then as the prayer took place, I shoveled the dirt over her remains and passed the shovel on to others.

Later that week my dad and I went to visit with Lisette's father who was hosting the week of mourning at his home. As we were looking through childhood photo-albums of Lisette I was drawn to the photos where she was with her mom. When her dad saw me looking at these, he sat beside me, told me the about her mom's passing and mentioned the date and the hospital. My dad and I looked at each other. We both asked her dad if he remembered the approximate time when she passed, he did.

Within the hour following the passing of Lisette's mom, at the same tiny hospital on a hill overlooking the city of Haifa, there was also a happy occasion: One child was born. That child was me.

As difficult as I found writing this story, especially the last few lines, and despite the intense pain that the recollection of these details had brought back: Lisette is one of the most positive forces and continually supportive and emotionally maturing influences in my life. I miss her every day, yet feel her with me in every decision I make.