Tabby.

I've never had to watch a friend be lowered into the ground before. It's difficult. It's breath taking. It's time stopping. It's quiet and loud. The image of the flowers laid on top of her casket burn in my eyelids. The sound of her dad telling the large crowd that he'll miss her, but he knows she's not far from us. It's heartbreaking and in the wrong order. Dad's should not burry their daughters.

But even better, the image of her smile, the sound of her voice, the memories she gave to me will never be lost. Tabby lives inside me. I'll forever remember her as sweet, and a lover of life. She was brave, warm and always encouraging. She loved. If I could use only one word to describe her, it would be that. She loved. The best thing about her funeral: it was standing room only. You know you have a good friend when the church runs out of seats. The church was so packed the lobby was full all the way to the doors outside. People cried, and then we laughed when we celebrated her life. Because Tabby is worth celebrating. Today, and tomorrow.

I must give my hat to her husband Eric, for marrying someone he knew had cancer. It takes a certain kind of man to stay with a girl who is sick. It takes a man to put his wife's feelings and life first, instead of his own. It would have been so easy for him to walk away when he was told she had cancer, but he stayed! He stayed by her side the whole time-loving her. That gives me hope. Tabby found her soulmate, and she glowed!

Thank you for your smile. That infectious smile.