Her voice was filled with energy. She sounded happy. And most of all… she sounded healthy. I looked forward to our phone calls twice a week. She enriched me with strength. Her son, my boyfriend, and our best friend was miles away defending our country for twelve weeks.

We relied on each other during those weeks. During the first ten weeks I noticed no difference. Her voice, physical and emotional strength appeared the same. But change occurred in the last two weeks. She was drained. She didn’t say much and she held back.

In the last days of the twelfth week, I arrived in Washington, DC. We gathered to see our Marine. He was finally coming home. But she couldn’t even walk…She was frail—her bones noticeable. I thought to myself, Who is this woman?

On my first day with her in DC, she didn’t speak a word about her bone cancer. But she was dying. I saw it in her face. Each day she worsened. We spent three days in a hotel room as we waited to reunite with our best friend.
I didn’t sleep. I had ears like a new parent—constantly on alert. I wanted to prevent her from struggling to get out of bed. She tried to be quiet. But there was no way I was going to let her do it on her own. Every two hours, I got up and helped her with medication and other needs. She had no strength. I had to carry enough emotional and physical strength for the both of us.

I developed a medication schedule for her. I helped her with bathing and with using the bathroom. And I never once second guessed any of it. It encouraged me to chase my dreams of being a nurse and made me grow as an individual. It changed me.

During one of the bathroom trips in the middle of the night, I finally looked at her and told her she needed to tell me the truth. She looked at me with tears in her eyes. And admitted she had been struggling with bone cancer for about four months now. I remember every word of our conversation and what was engraved into me forever were the words, “You better become a nurse because you were made to take care of people. You are the most kind hearted young women I have ever met. And I know I can count on you to take care of what’s most important to me. I love you. And I will always be by your side.”

You can imagine how I felt after hearing those words. Part of me was furious at her for not telling me about the cancer for four months. But the other part of me understood. She didn’t want me to worry. Now that I had been with this woman for a few days and saw her get progressively worse…I couldn’t picture how her son was going to handle this.


The day we finally got to see our best friend, she was worse than ever. She couldn’t even get out of bed. But it was time to meet on the Marine base, Paris Island. I couldn’t sit still the whole introduction ceremony. All I wanted to do was push her in the wheel chair to see her son. It’s all she needed.
The ceremony ended and we pushed through all the people to find our Marine. He had the biggest grin on his face…until he looked down to see his mother sitting in a wheelchair trying to stay awake. He ran right up to her. Picked her up out of the wheelchair and just held her and cried. We all did.

A lot of people can’t understand. How at sixteen did I do this But I don’t think much of it. I saw someone in need and all I wanted to do was help. Through this experience, I learned to have confidence and I learned you are stronger than you think.

After spending seven days taking care of her, she passed away. There was nothing I could do to save her. But I made her comfortable and maybe got a few smiles from her. It had always been her and her sons dream for him to be a Marine and all she needed to see was him in his uniform. Standing tall and strong. I don’t know why this had to happen. Or why I was encountered with this situation. But I wouldn’t change it for the world. It brought a whole new motto to my life. Everything happens for a reason.