ande1602
My story is not really mine because it does not revolve around me. But I am okay with this.
My story is that of my best friend and she lead me here. I was with her that day and I held her hand. She made me promise to continue to help others to the best of my ability. To give hope when others have given up. This is not the story though of how she died this is the story of her life.
Super morbidly obese since the age of 30. Abanoned by her children. She turned to the people of her church. They found me and she found a friend that would go to the end of the world and back for her. House bound and in sever pain she always wore a smile and asked how she could help me. SHe worried about being a burden to me on our weekly trips to the store because of my refusal to leave her behind. She worried that I was ashamed of her and even though she desperatly wanted to go with me wherever I was going. She would go to the store with me although I always offered to take her.
She deserved more than this life had given her and I comforted and dried her tears often. She worried that i didn't get enough sleep when I had to get up in the night to help her get to the bathroom, she worried that I would hurt myself lifting her legs into bed each night, she worried that I was spending too much of my life caring for her and not enough time with my fiance. And she cried along with me when he decided that I did spend too much time with her and left me for another.
Spending my days cleaning, cooking, medicating, massaging. Spending my nights in a chair next to hers holding her hand praying that God would help her.
God had mercy on our lives and gave her a better place to live. I was there and I know heard her last words. "I love you and will wait for you too join me...don't forget your promise."
I have not forgotten.
Her memory and story and life lives on through me.
Because it is my life and my story as well!
