Debbie’s family kept us updated.  Honestly, with the herbal and oil treatments, her prognosis didn’t look good.  Even still, we vowed to support her and her choices in how she wanted to tackle this dreaded disease.  We often wonder if things would have been different had changes occurred to her treatment early on.  Traditional methods to treat breast cancer may have saved her life.

Our friend was so young.  If memory serves me correctly, she was only 59 years old.  It’s sad thinking of something invading our sweet Debbie’s body and her not seeking life-saving treatment.

As her days grew short, her family informed us of the likelihood of Debbie slipping away.  Sylvia and I were closest, so we decided to visit again.

I can still see Debbie laying in the hospital bed in her living room. She was still somewhat aware of what was taking place around her.  We took her flowers, and although she couldn’t say much that was audible, she showed expression in her eyes.

We held her hand knowing that would be the very last time.  We walked toward the door, glanced back over our shoulder at Debbie, and tried to hold back the tears as we walked to our vehicles.

Debbie passed away the next day.

Our friend, Vaughn, who we also met in the “lounge,” tried to get to the United States from New Zealand before Debbie passed away.  He was distraught when he learned of her passing.  He promised he would visit her, and he held on to that promise.  Choking back tears, he was heartbroken at not making it before the inevitable happened.

In the days following, he did, indeed, keep his word.  He flew to the United States where Sylvia and I met him in Georgia.  We took Vaughn to meet Debbie’s husband, Ray, and then on to her final resting place.  Vaughn placed flowers at her grave site and spent some time there.  Although this is not the way he wanted to “visit,” he was an honorable man.  A man of his word.