In Memorium

My beloved friend, "M", drew her last breath on the morning of March 1st, 2014.  And for the purpose of this piece, I will lovingly and proudly refer to her as just that.  My friend. Because she wasn't just someone I cared for at her family's request.  No.  Far from it.  She became more like a soul mate, as we spent hours, days, sometimes even weeks, sharing the deepest parts of our hearts and minds.

I will never forget her, and yet, ironically, she never knew my name.  She always recognized my face, though, whether we were enjoying the sunshine of a tropical climate, hunkering down together watching old movies during a stormy NorEaster, or just chatting over a cup of tea, watching the Autumn leaves unveil their glorious wardrobe.

It didn't matter where we were, only that we were together.  Enjoying the moments. Sometimes reminiscing about the highly interesting happenings of my friend's past, other times pondering the always mysterious nature of mankind and it's place in the universe.   We never came up with any answers, but we did reveal some serious insights that perhaps held the potential for world peace!

We shared many quiet moments as well, just sitting together, being together, staring up at the sky and its brilliant array of clouds.  These are perhaps the moments I will treasure, and miss, the most. Simple.  Serene.  Shared.

My friend was completely captivated by the sky, and anything that was able to propel itself across its vast canvas.  Swarms of Black Flies (involving a great deal of swatting), seasonal and regional butterflies, always graceful in their amazing delicacy, and birds.  Lots and lots of birds.  It never mattered what particular type of aviary creature it was, the sight of a bird soaring through the sky always filled my friend with delight.   Genuine, often contagious glee, occasionally resulting in a mutual clapping of our hands in gratitude and respect for one of nature's most marvelous wonders.

My friend was so fascinated by the sky that when she was young, she became a bird herself as a pilot and flight instructor of small planes.  I never quite knew all the types, but an aircraft called a Cessna seems to stick with me.  And a Piper Cub, a yellow model of which I gave to my friend one wonderful Christmas morning.

Her smile could light up the darkest of rooms whenever she talked about flying.  Even though I've yet to pilot a plane (although you never know what the future holds), I can recall feeling all of my senses come alive when my friend described her days of flying, so passionate was she about her vocation.

That's another thing we shared.  Passion for our chosen vocations.  My friend truly loved being in the cockpit of a small aircraft, just as I loved being beside her as a caregiver and companion.  And a friend.

I was told by my friend's daughter that she passed away peacefully, in the presence of her children and a compassionate hospice worker, silently slipping away to...

Somewhere serene, surrounded by the love and laughter of family and friends...  A place where wishes finally come true, and prayers are silently answered..   A place where there is no more sorrow or suffering, only joy and light... A bright, warm presence that wraps its safe arms around you and keeps you safe from harm...

A place where beautiful birds of all kinds fly freely amid an endless array of puffy, cotton-ball clouds decorating a brilliant blue sky.

That's where I'll always feel the presence of my treasured friend...  Every single time I look above me, and see a bird elegantly soaring, or the seemingly endless white tail of a passing plane.

The night after my friend's passing, the Annual Academy Award Ceremony was aired around the world.  During the "In Memorium" segment that pays homage to members of the film-making community who have passed away the previous year, I thought I saw my friend's distinguished and dignified face flash by.  Just for a second.  For you see, to me, she was a star.

How fitting that Bette Midler should close the segment with the haunting yet inspiring song, "Wind Beneath My Wings."

I will no doubt care for, and grow to love, many more people in my life.  But none of them will ever mean as much to me as my friend, "M."

She may not have known my name because of her Dementia, but she was, and always will be, the wind beneath my wings.

Rest in Peace, My Beloved Friend.  Rest in Peace.