Grieving is a kind of enhanced gratitude

I received news this morning that a good friend of mine passed away on Friday morning (U.S. time). She was only 29 years old. 

We met at the singles' ward in Columbus, Ohio when I was finishing up my last year of graduate school, and she was in her second year as a Pharmacy School grad student. Though we only crossed paths for a year, she became one of my closest girl-friends in Ohio: random road trip to IKEA on a school night (rebel!), watching Wonder Woman in the cinema, Christmas break breakfast with Cynthia, hang out nights, etc. She was just one of the coolest people to be with. 

A few months after I returned to Singapore, I learned that she had developed a malignant (read: cancerous) tumor in her brain. I don't understand all the details, but she named her growth "Super Stupid Stella". My friend fought HARD with Stella and beat her.🙆 Of course, there was still a long road to recovery but there was hope.

Or so everyone thought. Last year, in the midst of a pandemic, the doctors discovered "Dastardly Daphne". My friend spent the Thanksgiving season going for radiation treatment. Unfortunately, by March, Daphne had two additional friends: Margo and Trent. While these friends were partying, my friend went blind, wrecked her sense of smell, put on weight, lost her sense of balance, had difficulty walking, and ate hundreds of medical pills for treatment and pain relief. My friend tried to stay upbeat through treatment. She went on family road trips, listened to audio books, started a blog about her diagnosis before her sight went bad, ate at a whole bunch of new restaurants, and even participated (via her mom) in President Nelson's 7-day #Gratitude challenge. 

But the tumour party carried on, and the treatments stopped working by June. My friend decided to seek hospice treatment at home, and weeks later, she passed away. Apparently most people with her type of cancer only survive about 18 months. She lived with it for 4 years. A tender mercy, but one that doesn't feel long enough at the same time.  

Sheri L. Dew once said that "grieving is a kind of enhanced gratitude". I've always loved this quote but there is nothing like a real-life experience with death to drive this home. Even as I grief for the loss of my friend who left us at the peak of her life, I'm also filled with gratitude that:

1. I had her in my life, however briefly, and she was such a light during my last year of graduate school;
2. She is free from all the physical, mental and emotional pain and exhaustion stemming from the cancer;   
3. The knowledge of the Plan of Salvation and the Spirit World;
4. The knowledge of the resurrection, and the hope, comfort and peace it brings;
5. One day, I will see her again, healthy and whole, and full of her usual sass. 

Take that stupid partying tumours.