My first memory of Jo is a vision in white: white nurse’s uniform, white stockings, white sensible shoes. She is standing in the doorway of my tiny office at the hospital where we both worked.
And, she’s crying.
A better friend would be able to remember the specific reason for her crying, but most likely, it was due to the fact that she was worn out, tired, stretched to the limit, exhausted.
Because that’s the kind of person she is. She gives, and does, and goes, and plows ahead through the roughest terrain, until she can’t give, do, go or plow any longer.
Then, she gets up…and, does it again. You can’t help but admire that kind of strength.
Throughout the ensuing twenty-six years, there have been more tears, from both us, but far more laughter. Our lives’ paths have separated, merged, bottomed-out, peaked, and sometimes, run parallel and level. Always changing, but, always constant. Grounded. True.
Thankfully, through all of life’s ups and downs, she has shared her strength with me, and that has helped me more than she could ever know.
So, that vision in white: Nurse? Yes. Angel? Absolutely.