Dearest Mary,

IT was April 17, 1972, as I struggled across the road to St James’s Hospital for the second time in my life. The first was for an interview for the school of nursing the previous September.

You stepped into stride with me and, as always with your intuitive head, you simply said: “You must be heading for the same place as me, I’m Mary.” And the friendship began. We shared rooms side by side, you were a full year younger than me and like myself from a large family. That was the start of our 33 years of a wonderful friendship.

You made the very best nurse and midwife, you made a wonderful wife and mother, and all throughout having battled a widespread cancer. Your bravery was never more evident till you were hit with a new cancer after your 25year battle.

I had made a simple promise that I would care for you. Little did I know your true teaching skills would come to the fore. Your acceptance of the further battle was remarkable but the courage you showed while writing life letters to your two children, the letter of gratitude that was read at your funeral Mass — all done with that unending smile that told me over and over again that you were OK.

I went to study in recent times the Sacred Art of Living and Dying in the hospice at Harold’s Cross. We reflected on the whole area of life and death.

I know now you sent me to this study for it gave me a chance to understand how you coped with living and dying. You are my true soul mate. I will never lose you, and I look forward now to the day when I see your foot in the door as you said you would hold it for me.

No need to worry about this letter getting to you, as you already know all.

Regards always and all days.

Bridy O’Neill, Baltinglass, Co Wicklow