The bond between friends cannot be broken by chance; no interval of time or space can destroy it. Not even death itself can part true friends.
~Saint John Cassian

Pam’s cancer didn’t stop her. She was still there for her family and friends, always available to help anyone at any time. She would offer light when times were dark or offer words of encouragement to keep you strong.

When the doctor told her in the fall that she only had a few weeks left, Pam decided that she had too much to do. She would need a year.

The first goal was to focus on her children. Her daughter was pregnant and she wanted to meet her first granddaughter. She got to hold that baby before she died. The second goal was to watch her son, who was a high school senior, perform in a spring musical competition. He did an outstanding job and Pam was able to sit in the audience and watch him amaze the judges.

Her next goal was to make her own funeral arrangements so her children wouldn’t have to. Pam knew I was caring for my mother with Alzheimer’s and needed to learn how to make funeral arrangements as well. Together we learned what we needed to do. It was so much easier making decisions together. We were there for each other and when the arrangements were in place, I promised Pam that I would be at the cemetery to watch the sun set on our incredible friendship.

Eleven months after the doctor’s diagnosis, Pam was ready to complete her final goal. As a long time, talented artist, she created her final pen and ink drawing, titled “Celebration.” Pam wanted her last piece of art to show that life provides many reasons to celebrate. In her drawing, an 1881 Queen Anne home sports window boxes brimming with summer flowers. The front yard contains a lace-topped picnic table set with a vase of sunflowers and plates of sweets and treats. You feel the coming excitement of a grand event as you see the back of a young girl climbing up a chair to hang the last bow on the ribbon-wrapped pole. It is left to the eye of the observer to decide what the celebration might be.

On a bright Friday afternoon, while Pam sat with me in her small kitchen, she told me that she had finished her piece and had met all her goals. God had blessed her with nearly a year to complete her list and she was ready now. She was grateful and felt she had lived an abundant life.

That night, I dreamt of Pam. We were in a car. Pam was sitting in the front seat and I was in the back. We were casually chatting when I suddenly realized that she had her beautiful long dark hair again, her eyes were shining, and her skin was radiant. She was dressed in a sky-blue dress that took my breath away. I knew that it was a dream and I told her that I couldn’t imagine life without her. She smiled warmly and said, “We don’t do life alone. Don’t forget that I will always be with you. I will always be as close to you as I am here in the front seat of the car.”

I suddenly woke to the phone ringing. It was Pam’s daughter letting me know that she had just passed.

It has been years now, and I still smile every time I look at her “Celebration” drawing in my bedroom. Pam, my personal angel, reminds me to pay attention and to celebrate all things in life. She will always be with me and when I need her, she will always be as close to me as she was in the front seat of that car.

— W. Bond —