When the strongest falls.....

 This is the first time that a post isn't written by me. Well, the majority of what you will read now has been sent to me and beautifully written by some very dear friends of mine.

Life has thrown a curveball in the form of a new health concern. It's something I'm unfamiliar with, and my loved ones are too, so I'm really unsure about the best steps to take. One of my friends witnessed this firsthand and I underestimated how powerful a long hug from her was. It was perhaps what I needed at the time to just reassure myself that "this too shall pass".

This morning, she sent the below, saying she's jealous she wasn't my inspiration in the last post, but she hopes this piece will create its own magic. I was so impressed that I decided to actually post it as it is. Isn't she an amazing writer!?

It's like watching the tallest tree in the forest suddenly sway and creak in a storm, the one you always leaned against for shade. For so long, she was our anchor, the one who steadied us when our own winds picked up. Her laughter was the loudest, her shoulders the broadest, her spirit seemingly unbreakable. We brought our worries to her, our small dramas, knowing she'd offer a perspective that would either solve it or simply make it feel less heavy.

Now, the storm has found her. And it's brutal.

The silence that has replaced her booming laughter is deafening. The light in her eyes, once so bright and unwavering, flickers like a candle in a draft. We see the tremor in her hands, the way her gaze drifts, the shadows that cling to her even in the brightest room. It's a stark, unsettling contrast to the vibrant force she always was.

We fumble, unsure of how to navigate this unfamiliar terrain. Our usual jokes fall flat. Our well-intentioned advice feels clumsy and inadequate. We, who always looked to her for strength, now feel a desperate urge to offer our own, but we don't know how. It's like speaking a language she no longer understands.

There's a strange mix of emotions swirling within us: a profound sadness for her pain, a helpless frustration at not knowing how to fix it, and a dawning realization of her vulnerability. We've always known, intellectually, that she was human, but seeing her like this makes it viscerally real. The pedestal we unknowingly placed her on has crumbled, and now we see her, perhaps for the first time, in her raw and fragile humanity.

This shared experience, though painful, is forging a new kind of bond. We are learning to be gentle where we were once carefree, to listen more than we speak, to offer presence rather than solutions. We are learning to draw strength not from her unwavering resilience, but from our collective desire to support her through this darkness. It's a difficult and heartbreaking lesson, but one that might ultimately redefine our friendship, built not just on her strength, but on our shared capacity for compassion and unwavering support.

It speaks for itself. I can't find anything else to add or to use in order to elaborate on what has been written.

I want to also share the image below. From a dear person that I have not seen in a very very very long time but holds a special place in my heart. This friend has supported my writing journey more than anyone else ever has. It wasn't just the praise, though that was undeniably heartening. It was the unexpected connection, the validation from someone who knew the dreams that had blossomed into this current passion. It felt like a long-lost piece of myself had been recognized and celebrated. The message wasn't just support; it was a gentle nudge forward, a reminder of why I started writing in the first place.






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