Tiffany

I was at work when I called Tiffany. The last time we spoke she was upset and scared. I could relate to her feelings of being alone because I had also felt that way in the past. I thought it was the typical loneliness she was feeling—the kind that independent, successful and single women in their mid to late 20’s experience from time to time.

"I found a lump in my breast,” she said quietly.

“What do you mean?” I questioned, not sure if I’d heard her right.

“I found a lump and had a biopsy on Friday. Friday the 13th!” she exclaimed. “Who gets tested for breast cancer on Friday the 13th?”

I wasn’t sure what to say. I thought about all the things you say to people you love when they are faced with a potentially life-altering situation. Of course, human nature kicks in and you naturally say to yourself, That would never happen to anyone that I know, but having two co-workers that I work closely with narrowly dodging the breast cancer bullet, I felt like my response was somewhat realistic.

“You don’t have cancer!” I blurted out, probably louder than I meant, knowing full well that I could be lying to my dear friend of 15 years.

“But what if I do, Em? What if I die and….and I’m alone? What then?”

I could hear her quietly sobbing over the phone and remembered all the times when we were younger, when I heard or saw Tiffany cry. So many times over the years since our adolescence we’d call each other over heartbreak after heartbreak, hoping the consolation of a friend would solve all our lives’ problems.

Tiffany has always been very focused and calculated with regards to her success in life. She earnestly received straight A’s all through junior high and high school. She had a robust social life and was an active member of the student body, joining as many clubs as her academics would allow. She went directly into college after high school to live out her dream of becoming a successful accountant. Tiffany has also always been a hopeless romantic too. The combination of her focus and dreamy outlook on life, I believe, produced the perfect balance of steadfast realism and whimsical romanticism. She dreamed of someday having a purple wedding, with every detail planned out, down to the color of her bridesmaids’ shoes. Tiff's undying spirit is what I believe has led her, today, to have the most friends of anyone I know.

Listening to Tiffany cry like this I remembered her calling me shortly after she’d gotten settled into her dorm at college, 10 years ago. I was living on my own with a boyfriend and she had started her first year at Seattle University. She called me sobbing, similar to the way she was now, lost and scared of the unknown journey before her. She was drawn to reach out to something tangible and familiar. I had told her that what she was feeling was completely natural. I said that in no time she’d be comfortable and happy with where she was, making new friends and looking back on this phone call and fondly recalling her young uneasiness. Of course, I didn’t know if that was the truth, I just knew it was the right thing to say to her at the time…and it was.

The test results came back on Monday to discover that she has breast cancer. As she said the words to me, it was like she was saying them very slowly and very quietly.. I had to have her repeat it, as if something with our wireless connection had caused me to hear something different. Of course in Tiffany's matter-of-fact and optimistic way, she carefully explained as many details as she could to me, promising me that she'd be okay. I wiped the tears away from my eyes and nodded and somehow felt and knew that she was right. Somehow I believed my courageous friend Tiffany that she would pull this miracle out. It reminded me of the miracle of one winter evening in the 12th grade...

Tiffany, Kristina and I were to submit a very important final paper to Ms. Bedtelyon, our AP English teacher no later than midnight on the last Friday of our winter vacation. We strategically called each other to ensure that we were on task as the evening went on. At 11:20pm, we had miraculously finished each of our papers. We'd had just enough time to spare to drive to Ms. Bedtelyon's Burien apartment, carefully place a bribery of peanut brittle and our brilliantly worded papers onto our teacher's doorstep, and scurry away into the wintry night. Of course, we were scolded for waiting until the last minute, but I will never forget how miraculous it felt seeing the twinkle in Ms. B's eye as she recalled hearing what sounded like little mice on her doorstep and finding our papers and wrapped sweets. She went on to say that she was pleased to read our "very, very good" essays...and could give them nothing less than passing grades. It was magical.

I couldn't help but think that nothing less than magic could be surrounding such an amazing and inspirational soul as my friend Tiffany. Over the next few months, Tiffany updated family and friends with her own blog. She visited support groups, had lots of tests and consultations, and was surrounded by an overwhelmingly large group of family, friends, co-workers and fans. Finally in April, Tiffany had a mastectomy of her right breast that thankfully left her completely cancer-free. I have become closer to Tiffany in the last few months than I ever have because I can't imagine not having her in my life. She's my hero now.

Yesterday, Sunday June 7th was my way, as well as dozens of others, to show Tiffany what an inspirational hero she truly is to us. Along with my mom and my cousin Jacy's beautiful 9-year old daughter Abey, I walked in the 16th Annual Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure. I raised $210 for cancer research and it felt so amazing to be part of such a cause. Tiffany's team--62 people strong--marched in the Race for the Cure as T.A.-ta's Supporters, because Tiffany sometimes goes by her initials: T.A. The day before the walk, I educated my young cousin on what Tiffany has gone through in her own young life and how what we were doing by walking was helping to find a cure for breast cancer. I asked her if she thought she could walk the 5K and she grinned, nodding emphatically. Abey listened closely to every word I said and nodded with empathy the whole time. When I was finished and I asked her if she had any questions for me, she shook her head and said quietly, "I can't wait to meet Tiffany."

All of Tiffany's dearest friends and closest family members were there. Her co-workers as well as co-workers of past jobs were there. It seemed that every person who was there to support her had been individually touched by her beautiful spirit in some way. My mom told me that she feels that Tiffany has a way of making people feel special. That she touches every person in her life with that feeling and that it is genuine. I could never really put my finger on it before, but that is exactly the way I've always felt about Tiffany too. This is why, I imagine, so many people came out to support her yesterday.

The most emotional part of the whole event yesterday was the Survivors Parade at the very end. Mom, Abey and I stood and watched as women in pink marched proudly past us. Some of them linked arm-in-arm, some without hair, some with wigs, some puffy-faced from chemotherapy, some skipping with joy....all of them wearing proud smiles of triumph on their beautiful faces. The most beautiful face was Tiffany's. She jogged by us in her black TA-ta's Supporters t-shirt, smiling and looking curiously around, new to this special event. I shouted out her name and she waved, gave a big smile and took a picture of us as she passed.

I never thought I could feel such an emotional sense of pride for my brave friend, but standing there with my mom and Abey, I was overcome with emotion. I continued to watch through my tears as the survivors marched by. After awhile, I felt Abey's skinny little arms wrap around my waist. I held her tight to me, wiped the tears from my eyes and knew that Tiffany was going to be just fine.