Mary
Go here.
And here.
And here. Take a gander at that picture. I have never before seen a picture of a person which so completely summed up why they were good company. If you didn't know her, you missed a hell of a person. We walked our dogs together around the reservoir. We drank together (Me: tea; Mary; hot chocolate) and talked theology together. Lest you think it was entirely a Victorian epistolary novel, we also shared a deep cackling love for the monumental inanities of "Hello!" magazine. No one in my life will ever care quite as deeply about the wives of British soccer players again.
When I first I met her, she was living with metastized breast cancer in her liver. 85% of patients with breast cancer in the liver die within five years; she lasted nearly nine. I think this is because Mary was better at being alive than nearly everyone I know. She loved her husband and she loved her food, her dogs, her writing and her friends and she woke up nearly every morning curious. Once, when her cancer-marker numbers were going up again and her doctor was figuring out the next cocktail she said, "I have to stay around. I want to see how things turn out." Even consciously knowing what she was battling, what the odds were, I always assumed she would. Our stories circled around like the reservoir and there was always a point when Mary would say breezily, "Oh, remind me to tell you about that." In my mind, we'd keep walking and talking and the reservoir would never end.
Finally, go here and meet her. Good writers aren't always good people, but she was a good writer and a great person. I'm honored to have known her and so sad to see her go.
And here.
And here. Take a gander at that picture. I have never before seen a picture of a person which so completely summed up why they were good company. If you didn't know her, you missed a hell of a person. We walked our dogs together around the reservoir. We drank together (Me: tea; Mary; hot chocolate) and talked theology together. Lest you think it was entirely a Victorian epistolary novel, we also shared a deep cackling love for the monumental inanities of "Hello!" magazine. No one in my life will ever care quite as deeply about the wives of British soccer players again.
When I first I met her, she was living with metastized breast cancer in her liver. 85% of patients with breast cancer in the liver die within five years; she lasted nearly nine. I think this is because Mary was better at being alive than nearly everyone I know. She loved her husband and she loved her food, her dogs, her writing and her friends and she woke up nearly every morning curious. Once, when her cancer-marker numbers were going up again and her doctor was figuring out the next cocktail she said, "I have to stay around. I want to see how things turn out." Even consciously knowing what she was battling, what the odds were, I always assumed she would. Our stories circled around like the reservoir and there was always a point when Mary would say breezily, "Oh, remind me to tell you about that." In my mind, we'd keep walking and talking and the reservoir would never end.
Finally, go here and meet her. Good writers aren't always good people, but she was a good writer and a great person. I'm honored to have known her and so sad to see her go.
posted by Unknown at 8:03 PM
12 Comments:
Perfect.
Beautiful tribute. I'm so sorry for the loss. I'm in awe of her from reading about her and what she wrote.
It is disappointing to discover someone I would have loved to know, read and generally enjoy even just through the internet AFTER they have passed on. But thank you for sharing your story and I am sorry for your loss. How fabulous you had someone so amazing in your life.
I wish everyone had the chance to have a friend like her.
I am sorry for the loss of your friend. She sounds amazing.
My condolences, Quinn. Let us all now determine to be the kind of person and friend Mary was.
What a lovely post, and thank you for introducing us to your friend. I know you will miss her.
Sniffle...
Ah, Quinn. What a beautiful reminder to us to live, laugh, and love. I am sorry for the sadness that is with you now, and hope that you can feel the Peace I send.
Oh, Quinn, I am so sorry you've lost a friend, and that the world has lost her as well. Thank you for sharing her with us. You're in my heart.
I lost a friend from high school almost ten years ago to breast cancer. She was 33. Thank you for sharing about this amazing woman Quinn.
Oh Quinn, I'm so sorry for the loss of your friend, Mary. It sounds like she was a huge blessing in your life - thank you for sharing this with us. My prayers go out to her friends and family, who's lives surely will be less bright without her here.
Oh Quinn, I am so sorry that you have lost such a dear friend. She looks so happy and full of life in the picture. I wish I had known such a remarkable woman. I liked her writing; it was witty and smart and revealed a person who lived life to the fullest,living in the moment despite her health issues. I read her friend's description of her final day; how fitting that she died peacefully among her beloved ones.
I know you will miss Mary and what you shared together. Lydia
Post a Comment
<< Home