This is a picture of my best friend in middle school and high school, Stephanie Job.
This year on August 12 marks 20 years since my best friend passed away. Stephanie's death was one of the hardest things I have ever experienced. It's pretty hard to lose your best friend in high school. I have been looking over old journal entries from that time and I struggled so bad. As I'm sitting her typing this I am crying at the memory of her. Time never really does heal all wounds.
In honor of her memory, I wanted to share two things I have written about Stephanie.
The first one is memories I wrote about Stephanie in college, about 4 years after she passed away:
Best friends are hard to come by, but Stephanie was one of those few people that I connected with and felt like I could tell her anything. I met her in 8th grade computer class and immediately we were friends. She was barely five feet tall with long, thick brown hair and a huge smile that was very contagious. As best friends are, Stephanie and I were inseparable. We would tell each other almost everything, but one thing that was not readily shared was her health. Stephanie was diagnosed with cancer when she was three years old. She endured chemo therapy and radiation and proudly displayed the picture of her in the hospital holding a teddy bear, bald head and all. Years later she was diagnosed with Cardiomyopathy. She had an enlarged heart, most likely a result of the chemo therapy she was given to battle the cancer. Because of her failing heart, Stephanie, her parents, and her doctors knew she would eventually need a heart transplant.
Besides the little information I knew about her childhood, I didn't know exactly the struggles Stephanie went through in her teenage years. I think that is why I was a little ignorant to the seriousness of her condition. In the back of my mind I knew there was a possibility she could never receive a new heart and that her heart might fail before she got a transplant, but I pushed that thought away. I didn't want to dwell on what could happen; I wanted to focus on the positive aspects.
The year 2000 was, to say the least, a roller coaster ride for Stephanie and her family. Ironically on Valentine's Day 2000, Stephanie was officially placed on the heart transplant waiting list. I felt relieved at the news. I knew that she would get a donor heart and that everything would be okay, because it had to be okay. She wouldn't have to worry about her health anymore and I wouldn't have to worry about losing my best friend. Stephanie's voice during the call expressed her excitement and relief at the news of a new heart. But as we talked more Stephanie confided her guilt that someone else's life had to end in order for her's to continue. Although this thought dwelled in the back of my mind, I didn't think much about it.
The phone rang early morning on July 25, 2000. The call that I had been hoping for, yet also dreading, finally came. Stephanie received the call to get a heart transplant. I was elated. I was relieved. And yet I was scared. I knew this was the day Stephanie had been waiting for, and I hoped everything would work out for the best. While I anxiously waited by the phone that day to hear how the surgery went, I could only imagine the worried feeling Steph must have felt going into surgery. I could feel the panic, the knotting pit in her stomach, the fear of not knowing the outcome of the transplant, and most of all, not knowing if she would even make it through the surgery.
The steady, rhythmic ticking of the clock echoed through the day and into the night as I waited for the news. Finally early the next morning the phone rang and Stephanie's mom relayed the news. As Stephanie lay in bed, tubes reached all over her body. A machine forced air into her lungs, and IV lines carried medication to her already thin and bruised veins. But the monitors hooked to her heart beeped a steady rhythm, proving life to what sounded like a lifeless body. Stephanie was okay for the moment, but it was a wait and see situation. I breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that everything was okay.
Because of the risk of infection, Stephanie could not have any visitors. I wanted to visit her so badly, but I would have to wait. After a few days Stephanie was taken off the breathing machine and was able to call. In place of the happy and cheerful voice I expected to hear, the voice was replaced by a quiet, somber tone. The medications drowned her normally happy attitude and she seemed depressed. I tried to cheer her up by telling a joke, but my attempts failed. I hoped Stephanie's view would change, but I was not sure my best friend would ever be the same again.
After Stephanie was released from the hospital and was home, I went to visit her. She was dressed in pajamas, and her pale, white face and tired eyes confirmed her fragile state. Understandably, she was even weaker than before, but it was hard to see her like this. We had lunch together and spent the day watching movies and talking. It was like things were just how they used to be. I remember thinking that everything was okay. Steph was laughing and joking and talking about our upcoming senior year and how much fun we were going to have together. The day was perfect and still lingers in my mind as a day I will never forget.
A few days later I called Stephanie to see if I could come over and visit for a while. Her melancholy tone told me something was wrong. The physical symptoms were obvious in her voice: she was tired and a little depressed. I told myself it was only a small setback and that she would be back to her normal self in a few days. Knowing there was nothing I could do at the time, I told her I would call her later and visit another day. Unfortunately, I would never get that chance.
August 12, 2000 is a day I wish I could forget. I was outside when I looked over and watched my mom slowly walk out to the porch and motion me to come inside. I glanced at her face and saw the tears running down her cheek. I reluctantly walked inside and asked with a shaking voice what was wrong. My mom sat me down on the couch and uttered the words, "I don't know how to tell you this, but Stephanie died today." It was like a ton of bricks hit me in the chest. I struggled for a breath. I couldn't speak. I just stared at my mom in disbelief. There must be a mistake. She just got a new heart. I stared at my mom with a blank expression and began to feel the hot tears streaming quickly down my cheeks. I buried my face in my mom's shoulder and cried. I didn't want it to be real. I didn't want to believe that Stephanie's body rejected her new heart.
The funeral felt like a dream and even more like a nightmare. The rain drizzled down slowly and the faint, sweet smell of roses filled the air as we said our last goodbye's at the cemetery. I friend walked up, wrapped her arms around me and asked if I would be okay. I shook my head slowly. How could I be okay when I lost by best friend?
So many emotions went through my mind after Steph died. I was worried about how I would make it through senior year without my best friend. I felt guilty that I didn't visit her in the hospital. I felt guilty for being so caught up in my own life. I felt guilty for being so selfish. Another part of me was angry. Why did someone who had so much to give in life have to die so soon? But most of all I was sad. There were a lot of sad and depressing days as I mourned her.
As the years went by the collages of pictures of Stephanie and me throughout high school slowly came down and were replaced with pictures of family and new boyfriends. I worried I was forgetting Steph and I felt bad for moving on with my life. I eventually realized I needed to hold on to the good, happy memories of Steph, but I had to let go of the guilt, sadness and anger. I would like to think this knowledge came overnight. That suddenly I woke up one morning and accepted Stephanie's death and moved on with my life. But it didn't happen that way. It has been 4 years since Stephanie died and I still feel sad every time I look at my scrapbook, or visit her grave, or see her family. But I also remember the fun times we shared. Those are the memories I hold on to.
The second thing I wanted to share is a note I wrote to Stephanie's mom, Shonnie. She contacted a few of Stephanie's friends and asked us to share some memories of her. This is what I wrote to her family:
I can't believe it has been 20 years since we lost Stephanie. In some ways it seems like so long ago, but sometimes I'll think of something that reminds me of her and the memory takes me right back to high school with my best friend. In spite of the time that has gone by, I remember most how mcuh fun I had with Stephanie, how I felt like one of your bonus kids when I was at your house, and how much of an impact Stephanie had on my life.
I met Stephanie in 8th grade computer class. As most middle school students do, I felt awkward because I didn't have any friends. I remember how nice Stephanie was to me and invited me to sit by her. She was so outgoing and funny and I remember how jealous I was of her long, thick hair. Stephanie befriended me in a time when I really needed good, genuine, caring friends, and I will always be so grateful to her for inviting me into her "cool" group of friends.
Stephanie and I were truly best friends. She was always so willing to help me out, or listen to me vent when I was frustrated. She was so supportive and always came to watch our dance company concerts. As I am remembering memories of Stephanie, so many fun memories are coming up. We loved the show "Friends" and would try to remember lines from the show the would be our "inside jokes" We would often leave school at lunch time and we thought we were so cool driving in her red car while blasting rap music. I remember she loved Subway and she had a very specific ordering habits. One time we planned to wear our matching Old Navy sweatshirts to school and everyone asked us if we knew we were dressed the same. We also liked to have pretend fights about who was a cuter baby: my nephew Cole, or her cousin Ashton. Like most teenage girls, Steph was very boy crazy adn I remember always talking with her about her latest crush.
I admired what a great writer Stephanie was. She interviewed me and wrote an article for her newspaper class about dance company and it was so well written. Stephanie always seemed to mature and seemed to have things figured out more than I did. She told me she wanted to be a child psychologist and even knew what college she wanted to go to long before I was even thinking of college. She was always such a good listener and I knew she had the passion, challenging life experiences, and great listening skills to make a great child psychologist.
I am always so grateful for how welcoming you family made me feel. I remember having dinners, movie nights, and sleepovers at your house and I always felt like I was just one of your bonus kids. I remember one Halloween night (we were probably about 16 years old) we decided at like 8:00 at night we wanted to go Trick-or-Treating because we wanted some candy. So we rummaged through your house to find something to dress up as. You guys laughed and thought we were crazy, but you let us go out trick-or-treating like little kids. I remember going to Josh's baseball games with your family and I admired your family for how close and supportive you are to each other. That is something I am trying to instill in my kids.
Stephanie's death was shocking and hard to process. In my naive mind, I didn't think that could happen to someone who had so much good and potential to the world. It didn't feel fair then and it still doesn't seem fair. Senior year was pretty tough when you don't have your best friend there to sit with at lunch, or complain about teachers, or plan what dress to wear for school dances, or talk about cute boys. I remember the first day of senior year. I went to my locker and just expected Steph to be there, smiling and waving as she walked down the hall, but she wasn't. It was so hard because it felt like by senior year everyone had their solid group of friends, but we were missing ours. There were a lot of sad and depressing days that year and I mourned her. I still feel the sting of sadness and guilt when I think of her death.
My friendship with Stephanie had a big impact on my life. When you lose your best friend, you realize how important friendships are and how you need that one friend who you can trust. I also value mine and my family's health. The health challenges and trials Stephanie went through in her short life are more than most people experience in a lifetime. Yet through it all Stephanie continued to have a positive outlook. She never wanted special treatment. She didn't want to be treated like she was sick; she wanted the same expectations as any teenager. Stephanie taught me perseverance and how to have a positive outlook on life, no matter the situation.
As I was looking through old pictures of Stephanie, my husband and kids were asking about her. It was fun, sad, and humbling to tell them stories about her life and our friendship. As I was telling my kids about all the fun memories I had of Steph, I kept thinking when they get a little older and friends become more important to them than hanging out with their boring parents, I hope they can have a genuine, caring, funny, and true best friend like Stephanie was for me.
Brynnli has the greatest imagination. She can spend hours in her room playing toys. I walked past her room one day and she was having a full conversation on her pretend phone. 
These kids love to go for bike rides around the block. They think they are super cool when I let them ride to the church. 
Building gravitrax in the basement. Caden loves to play with this toy, but Tyler might love it more. 
