casey

Casey. Cancer.

She was the editor of the college daily where I got my start in journalism. That was a fantastic year. There was a big crew of us - we worked together, played together, did nearly everything together actually. I still count some of them as among my closest friends, although I am woefully out of touch with most of them.

And now I feel more distant than ever.

Last time I saw Casey was... god... a few years ago now! It was right before I moved to Greece, at a company picnic. Her ex-boyfriend Matt worked with me at the paper and she showed up at the picnic as a surprise. She already had cancer then, and it was the first time I had seen her with no hair. It was a bit shocking, but she quickly put me at ease with her hilarious nature. She is one of the funniest people I have ever met, hands down. Always cracking a joke, hardly ever serious. But a seriously good friend nonetheless. And an amazing sports writer.

The two of them were heading to Boston, just for the night, and invited me along. I decided to go. Talk about spontaneous. It was two hours there and two hours back, all to hang out with the old crew for a drink or two. Fab! Casey couldn't get over the fact that I was coming along, she thought it was hilarious. She excitedly called everyone and yelled down the phone: "You'll never guess who I have in the car. SHACK!"

She was her usual rambunctious self. Then she got quiet and tired. I got a glimpse into the toll the cancer had taken. But even when quiet, she still turned around to smile and wink at me.

It was really nice, and made me feel a bit guilty. The truth is, I didn't always like her. In fact, I disliked her for awhile. She was too hilarious, too rambunctious. She flirted too much with the boy I had a crush on. She was intimidating, and I felt uncomfortable around her. She got on so well with everyone else in the crew... we just didn't click. I thought she didn't like me much.

But seeing her excitement in the car... and spending time with her later that night, I realised she did like me after all. And I really liked her. We had a great time. Went out to eat, then to a billiards hall for a few hours. She got really drunk and cried when we had to go. It was the first time I had seen her cry. And the last time I ever saw her.

A few months later, I got a card from her. Completely out of the blue. I had sent one of many mass emails updating all my far flung friends about yet another change of address, and she was one of the only ones who used it to actually send me something. It was a really cheery card, a card of encouragement I think. It completely sent me for a loop.

I think I sent her one or two replies. Actually, I know I did. When I heard she had been diagnosed again - after a long remission - I sent a card reminding her of how awesome she was, wishing her well. Such things are always so awkward aren't they, especially when you don't feel close enough to pull it off gracefully. Hopefully she appreciated it nonetheless. Maybe it's even better to get an unexpected note from a person you wouldn't expect. I hope so.

It's such a pity. She was so amazingly talented. And positive. Full of life. I know everyone says that, but it was true. She fought the illness so many times, and seemed to be winning. I think she went into remission twice. If anyone could beat it, it would be her.

I feel a bit bad that I hadn't kept in better touch in the past few years. But the worst thing is that I can't be there for my friends, who are undoubtedly feeling the loss more than me. Or her family. Although I don't know them well, I know how amazing they are. She was so close to them, especially her brothers. They must be devastated. And Matty. God. Horrid. Even though they broke up years ago now, I don't think he ever got over her. He was certainly dedicated, to the very end. I hear he was at her bedside when she died, alongside her new boyfriend, who I never met.

Puts things into perspective eh? Bless her. Maybe I'll send flowers.