Pollyism of the week

Adear friend of mine has died. Sheila was Australian (of course she was) and just about the kindest, wisest, most non-judgmental person I know.

I was told years ago by my friend Sally that we women become a little bit of every woman we meet and are influenced by. I have never forgotten that. It is wonderful to know that we absorb fabulous women by spiritual osmosis and it reminds me not to hang out with negative or spiteful women. Sheila, I hope, gave me all sorts of wonderful spirit gifts. I loved her and I will miss her so much. I can’t begin to imagine how much her partner will miss her. They were a single unit of fabulousness.

It was not a year ago that we were at Sheila’s brotherin-law’s funeral. Sitting in the service, I noticed that Sheila wasn’t there. Straight after, when the time was right, I asked her partner where she was.

“Well, my dear, Sheila is in hospital,” was the reply after a big sigh. “She’s been having strange things happen and yesterday she collapsed and said, ‘Darling, there’s something wrong with me.’ So after this, I’m off to the hospital.”

I tagged along and, sure enough, there she was sitting in a hospital bed, looking rather annoyed about having to be there.

Sheila had indeed been having strange things happen to her. She found it hard to write her signature. Sometimes she’d find it tricky to get her cup to her mouth. She felt distinctly uncoordinated, but she hadn’t said anything in the weeks or months this had been happening because she didn’t want her partner to worry, with already having a brother dying. Sheila felt that the burden of her “silly symptoms” would just add to the stress.

Sheila had a brain tumour, and despite all the friends and love that anyone could have, that tumour was not going to let our beautiful friend carry on being a brilliant business mind, mentor and amazing woman. The tumour was going to take her.

I hate that tumour. I hate all tumours. I’m angry that gifted, wonderful, amazing people have to leave too soon. Actually, I’m angry anyone has to go too soon, but especially our Sheila.

There’s no way to fill the gaps that wonderful people leave behind. Yes, eventually we put our grief away in a back cupboard of our mind and only let it air out occasionally, but the hole that grand souls leave behind just remains a vacuum. I just want my friend back and a medical miracle, and I want her dear, darling partner to have some time where she can just take care of her beautiful self.

Oh, and I hope the piece of Sheila that becomes a part of Polly is the twinkle in the eye and the kindness. Sheila, please give me the twinkle and the kindness.