October 28, 2011
I know that you are unable to read this, my last letter to you. You died on October 6th, but since I never got to really say goodbye, this letter helps ease my aching heart a bit.
You never professed a faith in Christ, but seemed open to my attempts to witness to you. Even while you were in a coma the last months of your life, I never ceased praying that the Holy Spirit would use my words to your benefit. And in my last letters, which Svenja read to you, I always included my love and prayers. I now can only continue praying for your grieving family, that they can find some measure of peace and ultimately draw near to Christ. I will never stop those prayers.
When we first met on Facebook, playing the game Ravenwood, I was immediately drawn to your quirky sense of humor. You made the first contact, and I wasn’t really interested in any kind of “chat friendship”. I was only interested in the game. As time when on, though, the game became less important than the true friendship that developed. Since you lived in
, the time difference dictated that our chats would come at the middle of my day and the end of your day. I was amazed that you spoke English so well, and delighted in the little quirks of your speech at times. The fact that you were the same age as Sarah, with little ones the same age as Lia was another bond. Germany
As the months went by, the daily conversations became in integral part of my day. I knew that I would be talking to you at some point every day. I loved learning about your life in
, the stores you went to, the kinds of meals you prepared for your husband and 2 girls. And you told me you enjoyed the same exchange about Germany and my life. I loved sharing recipes with you. I truly regret that you never got to make the Taco Salad you were so interested in. And I have done my best to teach Lia about Muffin Tin Meals! America
When you suddenly disappeared from Facebook, I became alarmed. When you didn’t respond to my messages, emails and letter, I was even more concerned. And then the day came when Svenja contacted me on Facebook to tell me the sad story of your brain tumor and aftermath. From that point on, I had the feeling that I was going to lose you, but never gave up hope or praying for your recovery. I kept writing letters that I knew Svenja would read to you, and prayed that my words would make their way through the coma to your heart. I kept praying until the day Svenja told me you lost your battle. And now the “pen pals” are your Mina and my Lia. Lia does not yet realize the importance of this contact to Mina, but hopefully will some day. It’s hard to lose your mother at the age of 5. And Rosie isn’t even 1 year old. And Mark is doing his best as a single father now, but he misses you terribly. There is one positive to all this though. I have now forged a friendship with Svenja, Mark’s cousin and your dear friend. Svenja loved you as much as anyone else. You will always be in my heart. Your family will always be in my prayers.
And so this letter ends. Our earthly friendship has come to a close as well. I eagerly await the day when it will resume when we both stand before the Father. May God grant this last plea!
Goodbye, dear Valerie. Goodbye my friend.