Celebrating our friend Carrie. She's the one with the killer smile in the middle.
I was added to a Surviving Together Facebook group when I was first diagnosed... I didn't think much of it at the time. It was a small group, probably less than 100 ladies. I didn't know anyone personally who was part of the group. But, the more I began to creep on their group page, I realized these ladies 'got it' in a way no one else could understand. We offered encouragement, advice, and prayers. Once I moved back to Joplin, I would even join the ladies for lunch or meet ups. The instant acceptance of these women was amazing.
One girl had a smile that I will never forget. Carrie was stage 4. She was a few years younger than me and had 2 small children, one Mason's age. We were diagnosed around the same time. While I didn't get to spend a lot of time with her, she made me feel like I was a cherished friend. She loved big and loved hard.
She finished her treatment from breast cancer and days later had a seizure. The cancer had spread to her brain. She had brain surgery, and still displayed that amazing smile and attitude despite the complications. The cancer continued to spread. And Carrie continued to balance the fight with living her life fully.
The last time I saw Carrie, we went and saw the movie The Shack. I remember that movie touched me, but I couldn't help but wonder how that movie touched her, given the hard battle she was continuing to fight, being Stage 4. I had to rush out of the movie to pick my son up from school, so I never got to talk to her about that... Oh, how I wish I would have followed up that movie with a coffee date...
A week ago, Carrie shared that she was out of options and was being put on hospice. I knew she was inundated with calls and messages, so I thought I would wait a week or so and message her to let her know how she touched my life and offer her some insignificant, blubbering words of encouragement. When I would see her, I would often share "Hey, at least I'm not Carrie Couch." It was my way of acknowledging that her battle was hard. She always laughed when I would point that out. It feels good to have our struggles acknowledged. And with this group of ladies, you could get away with that kind of humor, because when you are dealing with something as serious as cancer, it feels good to laugh -- no matter how inappropriate. I was figuring out a way to tell her she was taking this "at least I'm not Carrie Couch thing too far". Days after sharing she was out of options, Carrie passed away. She leaves behind a husband, two young boys, and a lot of friends -- because Carrie made everyone feel like a friend. I'm heartbroken I'll never get to tell her thank you for welcoming me with open arms and her big beautiful smile. I'm heartbroken for those who were close to her -- while she was fighting her own stage 4 fire, she took time to pour buckets of encouragement into others. I'm heartbroken for her 2 boys who will only remember their mother by the stories people tell. She was an amazing person and taken way too soon. She was an angel to a lot of here on Earth, and now I know she is an angel in Heaven. God must have needed her, but man, it hurts to see her go. This world needs more people like Carrie Couch.
Carrie's service is today. I can't be there, but I'm there in spirit. I'm crying as I type this -- Life is so unfair. But you'd never hear Carrie say that. She would say God is good, all the time.
I was feeling very stoic today until a close friend of Carrie's posted "5 more minutes". I knew exactly what she meant...
