In memory of Cheryl Waterman

It was a year and a few weeks between the date she was given the diagnosis and the day that we buried her. It was a year in which she lived to see many others pass and to tell me that she made peace with God. It was a year in which I felt compelled to go way outside of my comfort zone and traverse to and fro to the hospital even with my young children in tow. It is a year that I will never forget. It was 2010. That year began with vast devastation in Haiti and I was unable to properly comprehend how so many persons, over 200, 000 could die in a few seconds, and continued with our prime minister taking ill and dying within a few months of his diagnosis leaving a country in mourning. Yet Cheryl was my friend and death does not really make an impact on an individual until it intrudes their very domain. I watched her grow weaker so naturally I had expected that she will pass sooner rather than later but as I stood there looking at the grave I could not believe that she was gone. In the days after her death I inadvertently recalled the times we spent together and they were so clear and so vivid; how could she be dead. Sometimes on Sunday evenings the thought comes to me that Cheryl may call today then with a shock I recall that she can’t. I take comfort in the fact that we shared the same belief in Jesus Christ and that I did my very best for her when she was alive.

I will look forward to seeing her again when Christ returns for his own so until then I say Goodbye Cheryl.