A few weeks ago I got a call from one of my closest friends in Toronto that the mother of another friend of mine is dying. I knew her mother had cancer, that it was bad, and that she was moved to palliative care, but according to my friend, it was a matter of days. I left on a bus the very next day to be with them. I was expecting the worst. I was expecting to be sitting in a sterile hospital room, filled with an air of sadness, grief, despair and hopelessness. I was expecting to have to be completely selfless, giving up all my time, emotions and needs for her. I could never have imagined that it wouldn’t be that way.

Dare I say it was fun. I got to spend time with my friends. We cuddled, talked about boys, and watched TV. I cooked for her, played music with her, and shared private jokes. She brought me to their drum circle one night, an awesome evening where the drum beats drown out any worries or sorrows. It was breath taking to see her, overwhelmed by sadness and pending death, dancing carefree to the life-giving pulse that the drum circle created. For that brief evening, she was able to set the inevitable aside and be happy. She was able to take a break from being a caregiver, to being young again. I will never forget that night.

Don’t get me wrong. It was hard too. While I played piano, she silently sat on the bench beside me and cried into my shoulder. I could only hold her. Watching her tend to her mother’s every need, such patience with her mother’s confusion, such strength for her mother’s weakness, such love. Seeing how she would sleep in a little cot beside her mother’s bed, night after night, in the same clothes. Not showering. Not eating much, not sleeping much, only thinking of her mother. Such love. Hearing her play a song she wrote on guitar for her mother the night before, singing it over and over with her hauntingly beautiful voice, lulling her mother to sleep. Such love.

After spending 3 days with her and her mother, I look back on that time fondly. I learned so much in those 3 days. Mainly I learned of a different kind of love. An unfailing, unconditional kind of love for a parent, whose time is ending far too soon. I saw a whole new side to my dear friend, and I can only love and respect even more than I already did, which seems impossible. I only wish I am half the person she is, strong-willed, loving, creative in taking her pain and turning it to exquisite music, and truly beautiful, inside and out.