Dear Gloria

Dear Gloria,

It seems a very long time since I last saw you, last saw you smile and ask me about my 'dear dogs'. It seems forever since you picked up a pretty pair of earrings or a scarf, or a delicate brooch and decided that it ought to be mine, that it was just meant for me. You would press it into my hand and when I insisted I could not take it, you insisted I could.

You made me feel powerful, beautiful, worthy. I had never experienced such a thing before. You never judged and you always saw me for who I was. Even after all these years, I miss your simple kindness and the feeling that you always had my back.

Remember when we were running that scarf and jewellery stall together (you always wanted me helping you because you said I was pretty and friendly and sold things so well)? Remember how the mother of an old school friend started grilling me about my love life and I clammed up, didn't want to speak, didn't want to discuss such a thing with someone who just wanted to gossip. You stepped right in and told her it was rude to ask personal questions like that.

I hadn't even realised you were listening and it had never occurred to me you would step in and defend me, help me out of the situation. I always felt you understood me better than I understood myself.

I guess we had more than a few things in common, things that enabled us to be friends despite the age difference. We had both found ourselves women alone, forging our own paths and not always fitting in. You had discovered your strength, I am still finding mine. I am grateful you kindly offered me some of yours when I needed it.

I sometimes regret I did not do more for you, that occasionally I found an excuse not to help on the scarf and jewellery stall. I felt guilty afterwards, felt I had not been the friend I should have been. I think I just assumed you would be around forever and one missed day was not going to matter. Funny how that keeps coming back to haunt me.

Your death was a shock. You had seemed so alive. I am glad, however, that it was peaceful and calm. Not drawn out or involving lengthy time in a faceless hospital ward. You would have hated that! It is hard to look fashionable in hospital pyjamas.

It hurt to learn you had requested no funeral service. For the first time I was angry with you. I wanted to say goodbye and I felt you had denied me that. I understand now, it was because you were such a private person and you wanted that one last journey to be taken alone. You had done everything else alone, after all.

I miss you still. I think I shall always miss you. Despite all the people who have come into my life since and who will continue to come into it, I still feel you alone were the one who utterly understood me. You were humble, yet powerful, kind, yet fearsome. I have never known anyone like you.

I sometimes wonder if you would like me writing about you, writing about our friendship. You were so private, after all. But I feel the need to do so. You shall never know how much your friendship meant to me, took me out of dark times and enabled me to live and thrive.

Or maybe you did know.

One day we shall meet again and no doubt you will be ready with jewellery and scarves that will suit me just perfectly. You were always far too kind to me.

Thank you, my friend, for everything.