What a week I am having. Last year about this time my very dear friend Sonya was tragically killed due to faulty wiring in a house fire. Granted, most of her closest friends believed that this was something that she could have survived and we all strongly suspected spousal abuse was at the root of it all and that it wasn't just a tragic house fire, but of course, we could never prove anything.


My dear friend Sonya.

So, I've been thinking about Sonya quite often and missing her a lot when I get a call from a gal I used to know in New York who also lived in our old building. She called to tell me that another dear friend, who also happened to be my former business partner, passed away the other day from an undetected heart condition. Holly, who was quite obsessed with being healthy, didn't even know that there was a problem! Of course, George and I are devastated, but it is different this time. Unlike when we lost Sonya and all we could think about was how her husband most likely had a hand in her demise, this time all we could think about was all the silly, goofy, fun times the three of us had together. What a lovely legacy to leave behind. Memories I didn't even realize I remembered have been resurfacing. Like the time we all first met. George and I had just moved into the building. We were only there about a week. We had gone to the store and met her in the elevator. Usually we always took the stairs because we lived on the 2nd floor, but since we had groceries we opted for the rare elevator ride. She lived on the 6th floor so she always took the elevator. Anyway, George had a loaf of white bread sitting at the top of his grocery sack. She looked down at it as remarked, "White bread, huh? You know that is pretty much just junk food, right?" George then looks at her and smiles and says, "Yeah, but sometimes you just need to sit down with a jar of peanut butter and eat an entire loaf." The absurdity of the reply was just so silly that the three of us laughed like crazy and became fast friends. Two days later she came knocking on my door to invite me to a book club she assembled of women in the building. We read The Secret Life of Bees but the catch with her book club was that you always had to come in theme...either bringing a dish inspired by the book or dressed as one of the characters. This time we all were required to wear crazy hats inspired by the women in the book. We talked about the fellowship and friendship those women had in that book and how that is something so utterly non-existent up in the northeast. We all vowed to be more like those women to the other women in the book club...that if someone needed something regardless we would always be there for them. It is something I have carried with me these many years. The book was set in the south and since moving here I had come to find, almost immediately, that fellowship and friendship rings quite true with women here and I was very happy I was able to share my wonderful discovery of this with Holly.


My dear friend Holly.

There are so many memories of both Sonya and Holly. I miss them both so much.

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Blog Post Update
Apparently the story everyone is being told is that Holly passed peacefully from an unknown heart condition. However, the real story is that she committed suicide on her 50th birthday. I knew she had been struggling with depression for many years now and we all did whatever we were able to, but if someone is determined not to accept help and their family is unwilling to acknowledge a problem exist they end up pushing everyone who cares about them most away until they are well and truly alone. PLEASE, if you know of someone who suffers from depression don't give up the fight. Get them the help they need any way you can.