I remember well ...

I happened on a lovely site la porte rouge and it moved me to read a similar story on the very day I was remembering a friend lost to me.  Everything to me has meaning:  messages in a cardinal perched on a fence, clouds in the sky taking shapes, a particular song playing on the radio ... perhaps I am too superstitious; it's the Scot in me.  My dear grandmother had a saying and belief for everything and she taught me well. 

When I read Nadia's story written in 2010, I was moved to leave a note.  It went as such:

It is funny I should come upon this post today as I wrote of my long ago dear friend I lost as a young girl just this morning. She died of leukemia. We were eleven. It was a time when I believed children never died, a time when I believed God would save her. I remember with such clearness how we danced together until we couldn't breathe. I remember our laughter and I remember the bible she kept with her. For so long, I had been afraid to see her. But I worked up my courage that one afternoon and we had been happy. I made her so happy. After her death, she had come to me in a dream to say goodbye. I remember asking where she was going and who was she with, but she merely told me to sleep. She would come to me in dreams after, always telling me when it was time for her to leave for me to go back and I couldn't go with her. I would ask why not or tell her to stay with me. I still think of her,though her visits have ended-- perhaps I am too old now, too occupied with grown-up concerns. She remains my dear sweet friend, my forever child. In those moments when I think of her, i am that child again. the joy and sorrow still as potent as the day.

I am compelled to read your story from start to finish. Now the why of it is a little clearer to me.
xo Kimberly