Just a few words

Today, five weeks ago, I got a heart attack. I survived, but she did not. Just a few houses down the road she was a mother like I am. With two kids, just like us. With a husband, family, friends, just like us. With an insanely beautiful house, just....not like us, not yet anyway.
A few words to commemorate her.

Last year on October 18th I told my husband that I would test drive the car we got for a few months from my parents in law. So I drove around a little only to return an hour later, with the street full of police cars and ambulances. We didn't think that much of it; probably some people who got drunk and in a fight while going to a club or so....

A few days later my friend L. was over for a nice afternoon with latte's and talks when we saw a funeral procession going by the house. It made us fall silent for a while and talk about life and death a little. Then the 'home town newspaper' fell on the doormat and then it hit me.
She died. I didn't know her personally, but her name was almost like mine. Her age almost like mine. Her living situation almost like mine. And it gave me a lump in my throat. I thought about her quiet often during the weeks following the news.

Fast forward to late august of this year when I hit the pavement. Tons of people sent me cards and came to visit. So did my lovely aunt and uncle last week.
We were having coffee and were talking about the whole situation when my aunt started telling about this woman she met a few weeks earlier. Her husband and my uncle (and a bunch of other people) used to study together in the 60's and 70's and once a year they meet for a day. This woman told my aunt that her daughter had passed away last year, all of sudden, just gone in her sleep.
My aunt mentioned her name. Mentioned her age. It made me hear an alarm bell in my head, so I told her about the woman in my street. After which it all turns out we were talking about the same person. And it also turns out that she probably had the same kind of condition that I am having. Probably, because the doctors can't test her to be sure.

The past few days I have been thinking about her again a lot more. Trying to grasp our stories. She died. I didn't. That kind of stuff. But I can't grasp it. It is as it is. I wrote her a letter in my journal this afternoon. A letter from a mother to a mother, a wife to a wife, a woman to a woman. I think I don't really believe in a plan from above. In something 'meant to be'. Like 'she left us for a reason'. And if so it must have been involuntarily.

I will try to live my life to the fullest. Do the best I can. And to think about her every now and then. Her story makes me remind myself of the fact that there was an angel on my shoulder. That whatever is out there didn't want me yet. That I am given some extra days on this planet. GRATEFUL is how I feel!!!