My Daughter Passed Away, and she Threw Me a Lifeline: How Nina’s Friends Are Helping Me Heal
Like most mothers of girls, I always got a lot of joy from my daughter’s friends. There is very little more wonderful for a parent than hearing our children laughing with friends. And Nina and her friends laughed so much. She stayed up all night with one to create short films. The films were all dark, and many were about death. But they somehow managed to be funny. She performed in plays and thespian competitions with some, the chemistry between them elevating the emotion and the humor exponentially. Nina managed to balance academics with fun better than most, and she didn’t hold back from trying to help her girlfriends do the same. In college, her roommate and sorority sisters were everything I know she dreamed about for so many years. The pictures we have from that time are some of the most beautiful…full of joy and light. Nina was finally beginning the life she worked so hard for.
Nina came home for the first night of Passover, only a few weeks before finals of her freshman year. She was diagnosed the next day, and never went back to school. And her friends didn’t miss a beat…ever. Her roommate, who had finals herself, and was now left alone with her dear friend in the hospital with a terrible diagnosis, packed up all of Nina’s things from their dorm room and drove them to me when the semester ended. Nina had a lot of things. Maybe “a lot” is an understatement. There were so many boxes that Nina’s friends from Campus Diplomats needed to drive some down from school, as well.
Her friends drove two hours from Gainesville to Orlando to see her in the hospital. Sometimes they would drive the two hours and Nina would sleep through their visit. Sometimes she would be awake, but didn’t have the energy to talk. They all asked Nina if she would like anything, and they brought her food from anywhere she asked, and many times she didn’t eat. Nina’s friends didn’t just visit her. They made themselves at home in any way they could, and stayed, whether Nina was in the mood to talk or not. She knew they were there, and she felt so loved. When she was transferred to the hospital that was on the campus of her university, we were able to furnish the room in the apartment she had leased with three friends before she got sick, and stay there when she was getting outpatient treatment.Those roommates cared for her with the same tenderness, love and patience as I did. They kept her company while her IVs were running, for hours every night. They didn’t mind that half their refrigerator was filled with IV meds, there was a walker in the front hall, and always a mom (moi), sometimes a dad, that came as part of the Nina package. Her other friends came to the apartment, and her bedroom became a cozy place for her to be with them, laugh with them, and get a little bit of what she missed so much.
When Nina passed away and her funeral was over, I asked some of her friends to come to the house to help me think of ways that we could honor her. We decided to keep her Dance Marathon page open as a memorial page, so that we could continue raising funds to benefit the pediatric patients in the hospital. We came up with the #ForNina logo, and ideas about what type of merchandise we would sell to begin our fundraising.That evening was the beginning of a #ForNina group in my contacts. The group grew to about 15 people. One of her friends has a custom apparel business where we were able to order the baseball hats and shirts from. Another friend has a contact with a high end, trendy sock manufacturer. And I don’t even know who found something that Nina had written so that the ForNina logo could be created in her handwriting. I couldn’t bring myself to look through any old cards or even school papers to do this. When the logo was shown to me the first time, I was overcome with gratitude. They did it. This group of young women and one very special guy, in the prime of their young lives, applying for internships, trips abroad, excited about all that the future held for them, made this beautiful and personal logo, for Nina.
I invited Nina’s friends for dinner once a week after that evening. And those in town came, every week. It is a year and a half later, and they still come. Sometimes they can’t make it because they have rehearsal, or exams, or they are working late, etc. On some of these evenings one or both my sons are home, and I watch them enjoy the “Nina” energy that the girls bring with them. We talk, we laugh, and we cry. They are growing up, and living their lives. Some have graduated and are working or have gone on to graduate programs. But always, those in town want to be here. They reach out to me and ask if we are having “family dinner” that week. I know that being here is as good for them as it is for me and my boys. They help us remember little things about Nina. They tell us stories that I hadn’t heard. They also lean on me, as I am a mom, but not their mom. We moms seem to have more influence over our daughter’s friends than our own daughters at times.
The biggest surprise, however, has been what Nina’s friends have become for me. Just as Nina was a sounding board, a wise beyond her years teenager, her friends have become mature, open, and loving friends to me. They amaze me with their insight, and realistic take on life and relationships. They give me the kind of honest feedback that she did. Nina’s friends are a special group. They are committed to keeping her memory alive and living the lessons she taught them, in a way that no person in their early twenties should need to. And yet, they do, with the passion that Nina brought to everything she did, and with the love they feel for her that clearly, is not going to fade. Thank you for your friends, Nina. You chose so well.
