Two Girlies and The Most Important Thing (Whitney, Claire, and Lisa)

On the eve of Claire’s 30th birthday we wish to share a remarkable friendship that can teach us all something most important.

This letter was written by Claire’s best friend Whitney, in June of 2014. Claire was in the hospital again, in fact missing their graduation, struggling with a life-threatening bout of pneumonia that resulted in a tracheostomy and ventilated breathing support.

When Whitney came to the hospital to visit, she met Claire lying in a bed, a trach sticking out of her neck, hoses connecting to a ventilator whooshing and whirring. IV lines from multiple bags of antibiotics were hanging ominously on poles. Surrounding her friend, sharp bleeping monitors measured the minutia. So many little decisions were being made over such big things for Claire. It was an overwhelming scene. I had wished I could have saved her best friend from seeing some of that, but how, and then this happened…Ignoring it all, Whitney walked in and laser focused on the most important thing…Claire.

A quiet but assured, “Hi Claire” came from her mouth as she walked to the side of her bed and climbed in, no pause, no hesitation, after all, Claire was watching Sponge Bob! Claire smiled, eyes trailing her best friend as she snuggled up close, silently shouting her joy, YOU CAME! These two young ladies were masters at being present and focusing only on what was most important.

Gratefully, Claire shared six more years with us. Whitney enjoyedTuesdays with Claire doing the things young girls do until the pandemic hit, so they resorted to facetime book sharing and gossiping. They cobbled joy together despite the new challenges of distance but all too quickly, we reached the last day of Claire’s precious life.

We had prayed for her to see the Spring, a relief after the long cold months and God did not fail us. Her dad carried her out to the screened porch, greeting the first warm day of the season. Claire was in renal and kidney failure and found it hard to open her eyes, alert, but not interested so much in this world by now. She did not need to see the spring so much as she needed to become the Spring.

Her daddy placed her gently on a cloud of pillowed blankets next to me, when the phone rang. It was Whitney. Claire’s eyes opened at the sound of her voice and she looked around for the most important thing and once again, Whitney laser focused on the same. She read her a sweet story of a spoiled little princess who wanted a pig for her birthday. It was just the kind of book that, in the past, would make Whitney laugh at the story and Claire giggle, at the sound of Whitney’s joy. So that is what Claire focused on, JOY, not misery, not fear, not pain, not dying, she focused on the voice that brought her joy.

When I look back, I know it was the strength and focus of these two young girls who helped us be truly present and focused on that most difficult of days. We too, were not falling apart in grief. Our minds were not wasting time on what ifs and how will we do this-es. We felt their joy, in a moment like that! It seemed impossible but it happened.

Their lifelong example of living in the present and focusing on the most important thing helped us sit in awe, feeling blessed to have witnessed their remarkable lifelong love and friendship. They were and continue to be the face of Christ to each other. It all felt so holy because it was. Holy. And we missed none of it because of what their example taught us. Thank you, girlies! Amen