The day we finally met, after years of writing to each other. I still remember. We had some fun, a small holiday--just us!--in Jakarta, too. You told me the roller coaster in Jakarta was more thrilling than the one in Disneyland Japan. (in some ways, I do agree) You taught me to think and react positively. You reminded me to see the innate goodness in people.
I miss our emails. Our chats. I miss the time when, after a long day, I could write long emails or letters to tell you about my day. I mourn the day you passed away. When your husband broke the news to me, I was rendered speechless.
I knew it was inevitable. The cancer was spreading, fast. Yet hope still remained, that somehow you'd get better. It was not meant to be, but you once told me that in a way, death was some kind of release. After you died, I knew, if you could, you'd tell me that you felt no more pain. I could feel your presence. You visited me several times in my dreams, and you shared some happy memories with me. Not just me, but your family too. Even after you departed, you continued to shine in our lives.
You have given me the gift of friendship. The tears and laughter that we shared together, precious memories. You asked me once, why God made us best friends, yet we lived so far away? I have no answer to that. But that time, we both prayed, if reincarnations do exist, in our next lives, God would let us meet and become good friends again, and that time, we might live next to each other. We also prayed that we'd meet again in the afterlife. I am sure we will.
One of the last things you told me, when my Mama passed away, you said you'd meet her in near future. I didn't think it would be that soon. In March, you told me, "Soon I'll meet Mama in Heaven. There, I'll learn to make soto ayam from her."
I love you so much, my dear friend. You have touched many hearts while you were alive. I promised you, that I'd look after your children. Whenever they are here, they can always stay in our place, because they are our family, too.