Yesterday I discovered the very sad news that a friend of mine had passed away following a very short battle with cancer. I am devastated. I can’t sleep and I keep checking my messages just to double check that she hasn’t replied. She hasn’t. But still I check.
I had known Vicky for about 13 years. We met at work in London, became friends, lived together for a couple of years and spent quite a lot of time in the pub. Of course there were ups and downs, there always are, but the one thing I remember is the fun and laughter we shared.
Over time, life got in the way and we drifted apart. I lived in Sydney, she lived in London and the only real glimpse we had into each other’s lives was through Facebook. But last year that changed.
Having quit a job she didn’t like and embarking on an extended holiday to figure out what she wanted to do, Vicky and I found ourselves back together in Australia. We both admitted to being anxious about meeting up after so many years apart, but it was just like old times.
We talked about her plans, her aspirations, how she had decided to spend a year in Melbourne doing a Masters and drank five years’ worth of Prosecco in one night. It was just like old times.
Sadly, we won’t get the chance to recreate that night, but I can relive the old ones. I am eternally grateful that she came back into my life and that we got to pick up where we left off all those years ago. Her lust for life was inspiring; she went after what she wanted and wasn’t scared to embrace change.
I will miss her dearly.