In my feels…

Overwhelming sadness.

That’s how I feel this morning. I thought after a night’s sleep I would feel differently than I did yesterday, but that is not the case.

Yesterday I attended the funeral of my friend Amy. Amy was a beautiful mother of three bigs, the wife to my former pastor, Bryan and truly a light in any room she entered.

Amy was one of the first people to greet me upon my arrival at New River seven years ago. She and I would often meet for lunch on Saturdays when she was running her youngest to theater classes in Rock Hill.

She introduced me to Amelie’s (an amazing french bistro here in the Carolinas) and fancy french-press styled coffee. We’d each order a press and a lunch item and chat the time away. Amy was an English teacher by trade, and I love reading and writing so there was never a moment of silence between us.

When I was published in my first magazine spread, after telling Frank and Melanie, Amy was the next person I called. She was such an amazing cheerleader.

And when I was diagnosed with breast cancer, Amy was one of the first people to reach out to see if I needed anything.

Amy was a giver. To a fault. The fault being she didn’t easily let others care for her.

Amy and Bryan moved up north a while after he left his position at New River church. About a year ago, Amy received her own cancer diagnosis. She didn’t take to social media to announce it, she didn’t send a text. To be honest, we’d lost touch after the move – and the only time we’d connected was right after Hurrican Helene. I sent Amy a text to make sure they were okay. Which, thankfully they were.

My first indication something was wrong with Amy was a post showing her with a port.

I reached out, asked if she was okay and if there was anything I could do. And in true Amy fashion, she responded she was good and nothing was needed. I wish now I would have pursued her harder. Because before I knew the time had even passed she was in the hospital looking thin as a rail, and just after her birthday this past November, Amy succumbed to her disease.

Yesterday was Amy’s funeral.

So many questions for God. The least of which starts with why does someone like Amy, who loved Jesus, her family, and others, who doted and served others to a fault, get sick and lose their battle before it barely starts?

The service was beautiful – the speakers was spot on describing a life well lived, and her son’s letter to Amy, read aloud at the end of the service, was a perfect end-cap on the day. My heart, already aching, was torn to shreds when I managed to get a moment with Bryan. That is a man who loved his wife so very deeply and is feeling so lost in these first few weeks without her. The pain in his eyes, in his embrace was palpable. And I ache for him and his children.

What I would do to press just one more cup of coffee with my friend. To listen to her proudly brag on her three kiddos. To share another double-date with Bryan and her.

I wish there was a “smart” way to tie up this post. I just can’t seem to come up with one today. I’m up in my feels.

Overwhelming sadness.