In early June my dearest, life-long friend, Susie, called to tell me she was just diagnosed with ovarian cancer. She said she wanted me hear from her lips, as that is what she would want me to do. Her words did not register; I did not want them to. She, very calmly and matter-of-factly, proceeded to tell me about the chemo treatment she would be undergoing over many months, along with the side effects it will have. When I hung up the phone I broke down, trembling with tears. Why Susie?…

Susie has made a career as a physician and professor in medical school. She is the brightest, yet most humble person I have ever known. We were born on the same cul-ce-sac one year apart. Today we both are in our early 60s. We grew up together—same girl school for 12 years, playing piano duets together, competing in spelling bees, summer camp, even an unforgettable six weeks together in Europe during high school… Though distance has separated us as adults our friendship continues on…time and distance melts with true friends…

Today Susie’s chemo treatments are going well. Cancer cells are shrinking. She gets tired, sometimes in pain, but always positive and sweet.—that is simply who she is. And I am positive and hopeful, too. I fly to Memphis Sept. 24 to spend a week with her… Once again two little girls holding hands, playing in the cul-de-sac…