To the editor:
Grief begins with a loss of breath as the news arrives and tears when memory floods our mind. I met my friend Donna Mates at BBN Technologies’ Massachusetts headquarters after being hired as their West Coast manager. She was an accountant, full of humor, with glimpses of personal pain and struggles. Four years later I moved east. We became friends, enjoying season tickets at the Boston Ballet. In 1989 I took in my first two refugees and she became Auntie Donna.
In remembering Auntie Donna’s role in our family, I came to realize she had become my sister, as she attended the kids’ birthday parties, the wedding of our first daughter, Nha, and the birthdays of their children. She did the same for her biological nieces and nephews, but living nearby, our kids saw Auntie Donna more often.
Donna was an adult child with many anxiety issues and fears. Her childhood was perplexing, with many days spent in self-inflicted isolation at home. Donna’s counseling came late in life. Years later, Donna’s inner strength grew. She was less afraid and better able to handle the anger of friends and family. First she moved to Cape Cod, then we moved to Maine. Donna made two trips to Maine. Two years later I spent a week with Donna providing another set of eyes and ears as she prepared for open-heart surgery.
Two months ago, Donna called to let me know she had fallen again and had been diagnosed with bone cancer and terminal lung cancer. We had several conversations after that – some serious and others reflective. A week ago I was blessed with a call full of joy and laughter. She was in the hospital for treatment and shared that she was no longer afraid. She shared that she had a fight with a doctor and I reminded her that a doctor once fired me. Donna’s anxiety and isolation were gone. She was so happy her two brothers were there to support her. She wanted to be sure I knew how happy she was that I had introduced her to the Methodist Church.
Six days later I was notified of her death and received a church email containing Thomas Moore’s 1816 quote “Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal.” I am so grateful for that last joyful call. I lost a good friend, a sister, and Auntie Donna to our kids.
