Until recently I had taken for granted that friendship required interaction. Even on the Web, where cyberfriends may never meet in person, there would have to be some sort of two-way communication: an exchange of E-mail notes, for instance, or a conversation in a chat room. But that was before I found out about Missy.
Missy, a young woman with a teen-aged daughter, learned last year that she had cancer. It was a particularly virulent form, spreading throughout her body, and the doctors could not offer much hope for recovery. Instead of reacting with self-pity or anger, Missy decided to do something constructive. She created a web site and began an online journal to record her thoughts and emotions during this (as she put it) "Journey Through Illness". Her journal entries were sometimes prosaic, often poetic, even revealing a touch of humor. But when at times she was close to despair, she was honest enough to share those feelings as well. Taken as a whole, the journal presented an inspiring portrait of courage and determination.
I first discovered Missy's journal in January, guided there by an icon of a flickering candle on the home page of another Heartland resident. Some of Missy's friends had started that campaign to support her efforts. It succeeded admirably: by the time I added the link at this site, there were several hundred others already signed up (and more to come). Shortly after that Missy suffered a severe setback and was rushed to the hospital; for several long days we all waited for news (provided piecemeal by her family as time allowed). And our prayers and hopes were answered. Missy recovered, and even seemed to gain strength in subsequent months. She added a message board to her site and created a new site to publicize a business opportunity for her daughter.
Then, at the beginning of June, Missy revealed that her kidneys were failing. Her last few entries carried a sense of urgency, as she tried to say as much as possible before the end. Even so, there was also a sense of peace, of readiness for the journey to be over. Missy never put a label on her faith, but her reliance on God was always evident; it seemed clear to me that God was calling her to a better place with no more struggle or pain. On June 6 she accepted the call.
Despite reading all of Missy's journal entries and monitoring her other activities, I never tried to communicate with her. Partly that was because her time and strength was limited, and I didn't want to burden her with additional communication. She clearly had a wide circle of close friends already. But now, in retrospect, I wish I had taken the time at least once to tell her how much her journal meant to me. She shared her life so openly that I felt I knew her, and her situation touched me deeply enough to demand a response (if only in my private prayers). However, I believe I will have a chance to correct that omission. When it's my turn to die (and I hope, if given warning, to face it with as much dignity as Missy did), I will get to meet her at last. By then she will probably have gotten over any surprise at the extent of her journal's influence. But I'm sure she will be pleased to discover one more friend she didn't realize she had. Until then, I can only tell others what I would say to her now: congratulations, Missy my friend -- your journey is finished, and your joy is now complete.