Betsy had become a saving grace throughout my sobriety. This woman literally saved me a hundred times before. Many even thought she was my mother, which we both thought was hilarious. In actuality, the relationship was much bigger than that. She was brought to me via divine orchestration. I know this now.

Years later, I found myself in a crumbling life situation yet again. It was dark. I had been married for two years and was then separated, headed towards divorce. I had a little girl. I was 30 years old and in school full-time and working as a waitress every free second. I was sober 11 years and felt that I had nothing to show for it. The feelings were too much. The obsession to self-destruct and run away from myself and everything that was going on, once again became the ruling force in my life. It was hard to shake, but I spoke to Betsy daily and went to AA regularly. I slowly started to work through it and regain my senses.

And suddenly, life did what life does best…flipped the script…

The last day I ever spoke to Betsy was a Saturday. We talked on the phone for almost 2 hours, about anything and everything, as usual. All was seemingly right in the world. She said that she had fallen walking up the stairs and hurt her knee. I told her that she better get it checked out as I always did regarding her health issues. She had so many of them that she typically addressed these things nonchalantly. She assured me that she would make an appointment on Monday. And that was that.

That night I went to a meeting. Her husband was there, along with a close friend of ours, John. John had recently been diagnosed with terminal colon cancer. Betsy and her husband took him in and cared for him after his colon had burst. John was a marine…tall, tough, loud(!) when impassioned (usually when talking about his sobriety), stubborn…soft underbelly. He had a quirky sense of humor and when he really got to laughing, he would snort.

We went out after the meeting, just the 3 of us. It was unusual, a foreshadowing in hindsight, as Betsy had always been with us before. Just weeks earlier, the 4 of us went out to a meeting and dinner. On the ride, we were talking about how Betsy and I were the same in so many ways…namely, hard shell, soft interior. I agreed and so did she, except, and I said aloud, that she was a much better person than I was. I don’t know why I said that. I wasn’t an especially outwardly emotional or sentimental person at the time. I can tell you that there was no thought behind it. It was a truth that came straight from my heart and through my mouth instantaneously. I remember being inwardly shocked at myself afterwards.

“There is the world of the flesh and there is the spirit world. When the flesh is gone, the spirit forever remains. Their voices speak to those who know how to listen. Wisdom is born in the heart, and then spoken (Wolf Clan Song).”

On Sunday, I thought about calling Betsy, but didn’t. Again on Monday, I thought about calling, but didn’t, thinking I didn’t have enough time. See, Betsy was a talker and once started, it was hard to stop her.

I was working that Monday night. I checked my phone on my break and had a message from Betsy’s husband. It was slightly unsettling as the call came later in the evening than it normally might, but he and I talked fairly regularly so I just resolved to call him back after my shift.

I called him back happily, but inquisitively. He wasted no time and told me that of all the phone calls he made that day, this one was the hardest…”Betsy died today Samantha.”

When the words hit my ears, the shock immediately took over. I kept saying, “What…what…what…” And then, “No…no…oh my God…I’m so sorry…” Over and over and over again.

What can you do? It was not possible for my brain to digest news of this kind…losing someone I loved, someone I knew loved me in return, someone who had my back no matter what, who knew me better than I knew myself…someone who means so much that all the words in the English language prove insufficient to describe the magnitude of this person in my life.

I went home, laid on my bed and stared at the ceiling. I was chain-smoking cigarettes and staring at the ceiling for hours upon hours. No tears, no feeling really, no understanding…just staring. This went on for a number of nights.

It was the catalyst for the darkness to return…seeping through every available crack, like smoke when contained in a burning house.

It took months for it to really hit me. I was angry. At God mostly, for taking her. I remember a man from AA, a “tough guy” sort of man, telling me that just because a person dies, it doesn’t mean that the love dies. He said that the love goes on…I had no idea what to make of that idea and coming from this guy, it kind of caught me off guard. I was still trying to figure out how I was going to make it in this world without her.

At first, I spent a lot of time with her husband…having coffee, meals, talking on and on. It was comforting to know that we were going through this together. I felt a sense of obligation almost, to look after him, make sure he was ok. I felt that Betsy would have wanted me to. He was purely heartbroken. These two loved each other, really and truly. It was quite incredible. They were protective over one another and ever dedicated in their love…a Sequoia whose roots were indestructible.

One day, he told me the details surrounding her death. I relay this information cautiously, but must say, that this is a man who is very grounded…logical. Trustworthy himself, but careful of others. Not an exaggerator. Tells things transparently and the exact way they are.

He told me that they were to begin a procedure on Betsy in the emergency room. By this time, it was known that she had developed a blood clot as a result of her fall and it had traveled to her lungs. He left the room and was called back shortly after. He said that in the short time he was gone and came back, it was as if Betsy had aged 20 years. I forget the precise details, but it was too late to save her.

He described to me sitting beside her, holding her, talking to her…apologizing for every “shitty” thing he ever did to her. Around this time, he saw a light and what he believed to be God in the hospital room with them. Betsy’s soul went to Him. Her husband said that she seemed fearful and unsure, but God told her that it was ok. And so they went…

If this information came to me through anybody else, I’m sure I wouldn’t have believed them, but since it came from this man in particular, there was no doubt that it was the truth. I stopped being angry at God right then.

Soon after, I began having some massive pain of my own. It came on sudden and stern inside the right side of my ribcage. I didn’t tell anyone. I’ve always had an unusually high tolerance for physical pain and I had to work. I was a single mom. So I just took it. Everything I did though, was painful…talking, laughing, moving. Eventually, even sleeping was painful. I walked around for a good month with my hand rubbing that spot like it was a magic lamp…wishing it away…