My Beautiful Friend, Any Sue Johnson

On Monday July 24th, my beautiful friend Amy went to be with the Lord. She died at the age of 35 from extremely aggressive breast cancer that had invaded her stomach, liver, intestine, lungs and bones. She left behind her husband Jesse of 13 years, sons Nathan and Jeffrey (8 and 7) and daughter Jessica (5).

I thought by now, I would know what I wanted to say, but I don't.

I saw Amy twice in the hospital. The first time was shortly after Emma Grace broke her arm. I asked if Jesse had told her about that. She said yes, and I told her how it all happened. Then I told her about the body art incident. She laughed. I gave her a kiss on the forehead and told her I'd be back.

The last time I saw her was 2 days before she passed. She was very restless and seemed to be uncomfortable, but she did manage to ask about Emma Grace. I couldn't answer. I was too choked up that even in her condition she would ask about my child. But that was Amy.

Also true to form, she tried to trick us into helping her get out of bed. Amy hated being sick. She survived Hodgkins as a teenager and the mastectomy and chemo 4 years ago. She slowed down a bit, but not much. Illness was an inconvenience that kept her from doing all that she wanted to do. That day, she reached over to my friend Suzanne and said, "Hand." Suzanne gave her a hand. Amy reached with the other hand and said, "Hand." So Suzanne gave her the other hand, too. Then Amy said, "Pull." That's when we realized what she was doing. She wanted to get out of bed. She didn't want to be sick anymore. Later we just had to laugh, because it was so "her".

When I left that day, I told her she was beautiful (and she was. I couldn't believe that someone so sick could look so beautiful. Her heartshapped face, her flowing red hair pulled up with a clip on top of her head. She looked lovely to me), I kissed her forehead, and I whispered, "I hate this." She responded, "Me, too." I told her I would be back, but I didn't get the chance.

Amy was not easy to get to know. She was very private. We rarely spoke during the week, but we always knew we could call each other when needed. One day last spring, she called me late in the morning to ask if I could do her a favor. She had run out of gas in the carpool line at school when she went to pick up Jessica from pre-K. Emma Grace and I were working on some school work, so I asked if we could finish that up first. She said she wasn't going anywhere (ha, ha).

I miss my friend.