Friendship. / raphaela

Serena.

raphaela9920 Comments

10733747_864904400210073_4217018992701463406_o

I haven’t been on my blog (or planet earth), for several weeks. It is due to my dear friend, Serena. Before I tell you what happened, let me tell you how it all began. I was at a local park with my daughter eight years ago. The Jacaranda’s were out, and the rose gardens in full bloom. A lady -with hair assembled from the shavings of fragrant cedar- was at the playground with her little boy. She smiled as I approached, and spoke in a delicate English accent. I fell in love with her on sight. Her son and my daughter would hold hands in my car as I drove us around. They did gymnastics together, celebrated each other’s birthdays and local festivities. Serena was a teacher, who had changed children’s lives in the small county from where she came. She had squirreled away her money, and travelled the world. Oh, the adventures she went on, and the beauty she saw! She went around Australia, finally settling in Sydney. She had her little boy, then another blessed bub. She wrote stories, dreamt, and was loved by all who met her. She didn’t take life, nor herself, too seriously, and marched to a different beat. Her dance had an elegance to it, and was certainly independent of choreography.

1507265_860322504001596_5366620154724001302_o

We shared many wonderful escapades, drinking cocktails with friends, seeing shows and movies. I would usually smuggle in a flask for us to share. She earthed this flighty fairy. She loved this country, though gravitated to New Zealand more than once. I think it reminded her of home. We shared our hearts, our homes, our lives. A month ago, I received a message that she had been rushed to hospital. It was her heart. I knew this was perilous. Her father and aunt had succumbed to a rare heart disease, and we all prayed Serena wouldn’t present with symptoms. Even in hospital, she was directing us all not to make a fuss. There was nothing she needed. When talk turned to a heart transplant she was as brave as she had always been. I had some marvellous talks with her. She was always interested in your life, asking how you were, what the children were up to. It wasn’t surprising that her heart worked too hard. It overflowed with love and compassion.

10817030_869546726412507_1947302517_o

Our darling fought, my, how she fought. She was transferred to St Vincent’s, and had a wondrous visage from her bed of our beautiful city. She was relieved. One step closer to a transplant. To having more time. It was after midnight when her beautiful heart stopped. The staff did everything they could. Serena was gone… She had taken off her glass slippers, teetering out of the room. Gone in the small hours, not wanting to make a fuss. You will always be with us. You changed us, putting everything into perspective, especially the holiday season. It is about holding your loved one’s close, comforting your two little boys and your beautiful mother, who has flown over from the UK, and understanding what a tenuous grip we have on this precious, painful, wondrous life. I am finding it hard to catch my breath with the burden of grief I am left with. So many share this grief. Our town holds so many memories. Wherever I go, there you are. You will always be there, my dear, sweet friend. You lived a full life, the half you were allotted. I will complete the journey on your behalf. When I am eighty (twice your age), I promise to imbibe Bailey’s and raise my glass to you.

10477644_869598559740657_3423767334546020975_o

To make a donation to the Victor Chang Institute, which is doing extraordinary work in the fight against heart disease, please click on the link above. xxx

20 thoughts on “Serena.”

  3. A beautiful tribute to what I can tell is a lovely woman. Thank you for sharing with us. God bless you and her friends and family working through this loss.

    Like

    Reply

  4. What a lovely tribute. And a huge loss, too. I’ve been reading a few of your posts, and am glad this was up today. Thanks so much for the follow. I see you’re also a survivor. I hope you find what you’re looking for in life. Take care of yourself and stop by from time to time!
    Cheers!
    Elouise

    Like

    Reply

  6. I am so sorry for your loss. You have described someone intriguing and ethereal, but real and funny, with a heart and soul that spoke to yours. So much feeling is in your words! I cannot imagine how horrible it was to watch your friend transition but I do understand a heart of grief. I hope that you will find some small measure of comfort in time. For now, do not let anyone rush you because their can be no time limit on forever.

    Like

    Reply

  7. A touching tribute Raph. Written so beautifully about a beautiful soul. Serena touched a lot of hearts. Sending you much love xx

    Like

    Reply

  8. Serena sounds like a beautiful soul and gift to all that met her. Although her time here was far too short, she made a difference and that you will never forget. I am sorry for your loss.
    Karen

    Like

    Reply

  10. So sorry for your loss, Raphaela. Thank you for your touching tribute so that those of us who live across the miles can understand and mourn for your loss while being here to support you.

    Like

    Reply

  11. Such beautiful words for a beautiful lady. It’s hard to make sense of such sudden loss. Two little boys and their grandmother, a husband, other relatives and countless friends and the many lives she touched all asking why. I wish there were words to explain it. Though I didn’t know her I feel a little of her spirit through your words. I found this and thought of Serena:

    Limited Heartbeats

    When things slip away,
    They might be gone to stay.
    A child’s innocent affection
    Is relegated to history
    By the evolution of time
    That brings her to the shore of adulthood.

    On any given day
    You don’t know what
    You might have to leave behind.

    Touch me this moment,
    Your hand upon my chest,
    These limited heartbeats
    May disappear in a breath.

    If you wake with me
    Tomorrow morning,
    Kiss my eyes;
    We may not see each other
    The following sunrise,
    But I do love you right now.

    Uriah Hamilton

    Like

    Reply

Leave a comment