“I’m so sorry,” I wrote, though the words, even as they materialized in front of me, seemed paltry…insignificant.  I stopped there, trying to pick out the right combination of words to say to her, words that would adequately describe my sorrow for her own personal loss and anguish.

“There’s really not a whole lot to say, is there?” she replied, gracious as always, and more conscious of my own feelings than she should be.

I racked my brain again. My almost-30 years of life experiences brought up nothing appropriate in the cerebral database to use as a condolence. Yes, cancer has touched my life before. Relatives and family friends have struggled and won…or lost. I’ve seen first-hand its unrelenting, ravaging grasp.

But her Mom just died. Her Mom. Died. She fought hard…for five years. On Sunday night, she lost the fight.

And I have no words for her. I can cry for her. I can wish to be there for her. Mostly, though, I am in awe of her. She has been the strong one for her family through all of this. She has held it together so many times, allowing the others to fall apart.

 “She’s at peace now,” are the only words that come to mind besides “I’m sorry.” My hope is that one day she will be, too.