This one word.
When I hear it, I think of one person in particular.
It hits a place close to my heart. A spot that will never be filled, even though it may come close.
My best friend. Lauren Weiss. Now an angel. And I am sure a beautiful one.
She was the first "patient" that ever touched my heart.
I was a secretary on the medicine floor at BJC when we met. She supported me and cheered me on as I became a nurse.
We spent a lot of time together while she was in the hospital. She always wanted to hear everyone else's problems or talk about you, never herself.
She would listen to my struggles with school all the while wishing she could be a nurse. Listen to me cry about possibly never becoming a mom, all the while wishing that she could be one too.
But, she was so selfless.
She was a light in the darkness. My angel. My friend. My sister. My heart.
Watching her decline was one of the hardest things I could have ever done.
I cried many nights hating how sick people with cystic fibrosis have to get before they qualify for lung transplant. Basically, so sick they barely make it through.
Lauren didn't even make it to her transplant.
I watched her love someone so hard it hurt.
Drank margs with her after I passed my nursing exam.
We always had our famous 4 hour lunch/dinners. Blake would always ask why we took so long to eat together. We would talk so much we took forever to order and then would talk and laugh until we cried/she had a coughing spell so bad she had to ACTUALLY wear her oxygen. She was so stubborn, she would never want to wear it. I remember watching her get to where she had to wear it.
I watched her get married and danced with her at her wedding.
I watched her decline, but all the while put a smile on her face and always ask how I was doing. She was watching me try to conceive through IUI and IVF while her health was declining.
She would send me texts apologizing for being a bad friend for not being there for me enough.
I should have been apologizing.
I took our friendship for granted.
I wasn't there enough in the end.
And when I found out I was pregnant, the first person I wanted to tell was her. But she was gone. Just a couple weeks before I found out. Gone.
She was the person I told everything to. The friend I never should have had. A patient.
But we clicked instantly. Our names were similar (mine was Laura Wise and hers Lauren Weiss). We both loved soccer. Buffalo Wild Wings. Ranch. Mountain Dew. White Chicken Chili. Nachos. And we could talk for hours.
She was my person.
I remember crying when I heard the song Breathe by Through Fire for the first time. I still do.
I miss you.
I know you're an angel now and you can Breathe Easy, but I would give anything for a Lauren hug. Or to hear you laugh again. Or even cough.
Just anything Lauren.
I have only connected instantly with a few people since Lauren, but that hole will always be there.
So when I tell you to breathe, know that you matter to me more than you know. More than anyone knows.
So, hey you.
Breathe.
Check out Breathe by Through Fire on Amazon Music