From that moment, the descent into a hole of anxiety and fear began. Amy's original tumor had spread into her lymph nodes and surrounding tissue. It was in her liver and lungs. Likely her bones and now in her brain. It was Stage 4. I went from wishing for some kind surprising good news to simply praying for news that wasn't terrifying.
In February, still under-going treatment and hopeful of some years yet to live, she texted me that she was grateful for a few days in which she felt peaceful and pain free. Never once, as she made the transition from a seeming health scare into the horrible conclusion that this would not end well, did Amy give up hope in the power of living and loving the life she had. But that life ended on Friday. It still seems unbelievable to write such a sentence.
On countless occasions big and small, Amy was this family's red-headed fairy godmother, with laughter, confidence in happy endings, and an adventurous spirit to match. That's the Miss Amy that we will remember, fiercely miss, and always love with all of our hearts.
|Amy & JT at Harry Potter World, Florida, March 2012|