Some people seem so very full of life, that it is difficult to imagine them sick. Impossible to really. So the news of a friend's illness has hit me like a punch to the stomach.
There probably isn't a northern blogger that hasn't been touched by Indigo. She's had a long friendship with most of us, and an even longer friendship with the north. She's lived, worked, nursed and touched hearts here for a long time.
We've never met, but she is a fast friend. Without warning a package from her will appear at the post office. Care packages with exotic dark organic chocolate. Old books, magazines and ephemera from the Arctic, from Arctic Bay, from the world, would land on our doorstep. Heck I have old Arctic Bay pennants that she sent me, just because.
She shares my love of Mondays, the promise that they bring. Unwaveringly positive, a world traveller. A world traveller of the road less taken. She is high on the list of close friends I've never met, who I want to meet and hang out with.
That meeting may still take place, I hope so. But it is at risk. Tonight her son posted on her facebook page that she has been in the hospital since Monday, diagnosed with extensive bone cancer and a failing liver. I read and re-read the status, unable to reconcile what I was reading and the person I've come to know and call a friend. Looking for a loophole, something that will make it different if I read it one more time.
I hope for the best, like I always hope for the best on that glorious day of promise, Mondays. Indigo, get your self well. We still need to meet.