I got the phone call around 3 a. m. I quickly packed a bag and drove two hours not knowing what to expect when I got to the Emergency room. My friend was in rough shape, the family had gathered. She was being transferred to a hospital in a city nearby, for surgery. The doctors prognosis was grim. If she survived the operation, he wasnt sure she could survive all that would follow. We each had a few moments with her. I looked at the woman whod been my best friend for as long as I could remember. She looked nothing like the woman who years ago, would spend hours happily working in her beautiful flower gardens, and walk for miles, even in the worst blizzards. She was one of the strongest women Id ever known. Now she laid there, a scant eighty pounds, each breath a struggle. Its the way it had been for years and it broke my heart. The simplest things gave her pleasure and yet her body denied her the simplest of things. sympathy gift flowers How much was this wonderful woman expected to endure It shouldnt have come as a surprise to anyone when she came through the surgery. The family had been called to say their goodbyes a handful of times in the past. Doctors marveled at her will to live, saying shed been out of their hands for years and obviously in the hands of someone else. But the following day things did not go as well. Shed fallen asleep and nothing or no one could wake her. We took turns stroking her forehead, holding her hand and whispering comforting words in her ear. Nothing. I picked up the phone at her bedside when it rang. It was my daughter. She too had a close relationship with my friend, one that had grown stronger the past year since moving to the same small town. My daughter told me of an acquaintance who had once been in a coma for weeks. Shed recently told her that during that time, she could hear everything people were saying, and could feel them holding her hand. She just couldnt respond. My daughter asked me to hold the phone up to my friends ear sympathy flowers. I could hear music playing and when I listened in, heard my daughter say, Can you hear this Im picturing you dancing. We waited as the music played. There was no response. My daughter cried, and I cried with her. Moments later though the nurses removed the covers, brought in cold cloths and ice packs and tried to move her. Slowly, my friend started to come around. I called my daughter back immediately and held up the phone once more. Though her eyes remained closed a beautiful smile appeared on her face. We had her back once again. Days passed. There were blood transfusions and more tests. Finally she was transferred back to her small town hospital. I kissed her goodbye and told her I loved her. I assured her Id be back. Once home, I was very aware of the distance between us, should the phone ring again. I returned to work and tried to catch up on things so Id be free to visit again soon. My daughter loaded an Ipod with my friends favourite songs. She told me how she went to visit her once and quietly watched as my friend (unaware she was there) laid peacefully, eyes closed, smiling as she listened to her music. I couldnt help but wonder what ran through her mind as she listened. Did she picture herself as a child, running through the fields with her dog like she so often told us about Did she remember herself as a young woman falling in love with the man she had just celebrated fifty-eight years with Did the music allow her to escape the pain she was in and temporarily escape the fear of what was to come I hoped so. As I did dishes the other day, her song came on the radio. sympathy flowers I stopped what I was doing and thought about her. I didnt envision her as she is now, and I didnt envision her coming home from the hospital. Instead I saw her surrounded by friends and family who had already said goodbye years before. I saw her running in fields of flowers and breathing the fresh air with ease. I had flashbacks of those times we laughed until our sides hurt, and recalled images of her joyfully holding her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. As the tears rolled off my face I remembered sitting in the waiting room of the hospital that first night. I remembered praying the surgeon would appear and tell us shed slipped away. I felt such guilt for having had those thoughts. How could I give up on someone who had fought so hard to stay alive even though shed told us she was ready to go The truth is Im not ready to say good-bye and I cant imagine my life, or my kids lives, without her. But I cant bear the agony of seeing her struggle with more tests, and more pain, as she fights to walk again. I dont think wishing she could close her eyes and peacefully slip away means Im a bad person, and I dont think it means Im weak. Maybe it just means Im not as strong as she is. But then, not many are as strong as my Mother.