A Journey Through Grief: How My Best Friend’s Death Taught Me to Live
“It has been said, ‘time heals all wounds.’ I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone.” ― Rose Kennedy
Years ago, I wrote the hardest piece I have ever had to write: the eulogy for my favorite uncle, Moses who succumbed to liver cancer at age 51. But his was not the first eulogy I wrote, nor was he the first loved one I lost.
I have lost too many loved ones to count. Death is never an easy thing to handle, especially for someone as sentimental as me, and as a person who loves hard.
From my early 20s to now, I have lost several loved ones to cancer, ranging from ages 14 to 72 (my grandfather included). When I was 26, I bade farewell to a close childhood friend, Lemuel—the first person to teach me tolerance and unconditional love—to AIDS. A couple of years later, my beloved 14-year-old cousin, Alex, died of a heart attack just two weeks before Christmas.
Yes, I have had many moments of donning black dresses, signing books of condolences, and walking in funeral marches. But the loss that haunts me most is that of my best friend, Nikole.
The Day the Music Stopped
At the time, we were giddy teenagers high on life. She was a bit older than me, and to this day, I have not met another person with whom I’ve shared more in common.
Her eulogy was the first I ever co-wrote, alongside one of our favorite teachers, Addison Cadogan.
She was the first loved one I lost.
Today marks another anniversary of that fateful day. The pain can still feel almost as raw as it did on the night I got the call that Nikole Leslie Christine Greenidge was one of three victims who died in a horrific three-car collision on the ABC Highway in Barbados. She left us in the month in which she was born.
A picnic with secondary school classmates circa 1991/1992, Nikole to the far right.
From the moment our mutual friend Kelly gutted me with the news, it was as if something inside me also died. I lost a certain joy that I don’t think I ever fully regained. My carefree spirit, my hopefulness, and that safe haven of knowing someone just like me was rooting for me on the same journey—all shattered.
I went into shock for what seemed like forever. I was angry with God. I couldn’t fathom that it could be His will to take Nikole away from me.
Inseparable Dreams
After all, God knew that we were both fascinated with the English language—a passion arguably unsurpassed by any of our peers. He knew that we loved the same literature, shared a delight for cooking, sang together in the school’s choir, talked on the phone for hours, inseparable both at and away from school.
God knew that we had decided by age 13 or 14 exactly what careers we wanted: Nikole wanted to be a lawyer, and I wanted to be a journalist. He knew our plans: graduate from secondary school, go to the Barbados Community College, then off to the University of the West Indies.
Surely, God knew how happy we were, how we loved a great joke, and how Nikole would laugh until tears streamed down her cheeks. Most of all, God knew that I was an obedient Christian girl who’d spent much of my school life trying to get Nikole “saved.”
At Roebuck Secondary School circa 1991/1992. Nikole (far right, second row).
While she was a regular churchgoer, one of the few things we didn’t have in common was that unlike me, Nikole was not “born-again” for most of our friendship.
So yes, I was furious with God for taking Nikole away from me—so soon after she was finally “saved,” albeit not just to my credit. My hurt and bitterness overpowered my faith, and I stopped going to church. I even stopped paying attention in classes, and my usually stellar grades started turning into Fs.
I also became petrified of sitting in the back center seat of any car, bearing in mind that’s where Nikole was when she was thrown from that speeding vehicle. This tragedy further prevented me from continuing to learn to drive, and to this day, I have yet to get my driver’s license.
Healing and New Light
In the year following Nikole’s death, I met Cassandra and Jennifer. Cassandra reminded me of Nikole in some ways. She was of the same complexion, slightly bow-legged, and a similar slender size and height; she spoke just as eloquently and sang just as beautifully. She, too, had a love affair with the English language and interestingly enough, like Nikole, was from the parish of St. Peter. Cassandra quickly became a loyal confidante. Her bubbly personality, kind deeds, and humility showed the “Jesus” in her and helped to restore some of my faith.
Jennifer was equally inspiring, possessing a warm spirit, a jovial nature, and a selfless heart; up to now, I have yet to see her lose her cool. Jennifer and I would each begin our respective first job as a reporter with The Barbados Advocate, just months apart. But as wonderful as Jenny and Cass were, I hesitated to fully let them into my grieving heart.
It was while at The Barbados Advocate that I had an epiphany. One day, Nikole’s mom stopped by the office for an interview with one of our reporters to discuss problems that had been plaguing the family since the accident. One contentious matter was that the vehicle in which Nikole was traveling was driven by their church pastor. He’d survived—physically unscathed. The relationship with him and her relatives deteriorated from there on.
As I heard Nikole’s mom’s pain, it was as if she were waiting to wake up from a nightmare. There was a heartbroken mother who seemingly had not and could not move on with her first-born daughter gone. I realized that, in part, I was grieving in a similar fashion.
I remembered then how Nikole and I had declared our dreams. I thought of how ambitious she was, all that she could have offered this world, and how those dreams would never come to fruition. In those moments, I knew I had to honor her memory and LIVE. I had to go after my dreams, and even though no one could replace her, I had to open my heart to new friends, and I finally had to accept God’s will.
Keeping the Memory Alive
Every October, I remember Nikole. Yes, it comes with a sense of sadness, but that is outweighed by a deep conviction: if she could see me now, Nikole would be happy.
She would be glad to know that many of my dreams have been fulfilled and I am LIVING LIFE; whatever challenges come, I put up a fight.
She would love knowing that Jenny is one of my closest female friend, and Cassandra continues to hold a special place in my life. She would be proud that as a journalist, I strive to write stories that help people, effect positive change, and offer upliftment. Nikole would also be glad to know that as a Christian, my faith in God, long fully restored—remains unrelenting
During her short life, Nikole kept me alive. But it was through her death that I learned the true value of life and living. I love her today just as much as that little girl sitting before her so many years ago in class 1S1 at Roebuck Secondary School, where she first turned to me and said, “You’re my best friend.”
~ I Keep it Irie ~
Me on the East Coast, Barbados living and loving life.
Beautiful.
Thank you so much! One love.:-)
Beautiful & heartfelt writing. Hope you’re well, dear. XX
Thank you my dear Audrey!:-)
I miss you!!!
I’m doing well, thanks. Please message me your new address if you’ve settled in, so I can write to you (snail mail)! Hope all’s well in your corner of the world. xx
Beautiful , I felt so touched while reading this piece.
Thanks Kev! One love.:-)
Hey Maquita,
Greetings from Bim! It’s soooo good to see you. There’s a little boy at my school with your surname and every time I see him, you cross my thoughts. Aquinas sent me an email with your link and I’ve just been here reading and enjoying your posts. This one about Nicole tugs at a few strings though. We weren’t that close but I remember the tragedy as though it was yesterday (my sister Denise was in your year group). I guess that once you went to Roebuck, you understand. There always was and will be that special bond among “brothers and sisters”. Keep strong and keep the flame burning. Blessings!
Oh my goodness, Paulette, it has been years! Of course, I remember you! Don’t forget I’m also from a village in St. George, a stone’s throw from Todds. It’s wonderful to hear you. Thanks for reading and for your lovely sentiments!
I must tell Joseph (Aquinas) thanks for sharing the post.
Yes, our RSS bond is strong. I think because the school was so small and so young, it made for closer ties among us; not to mention the unity Miss Jemmott instilled in/among us.
Once again, thanks for your kinds words. I hope you’re flourishing. Much love and blessings to you my sister.:-)
By the way, Paulette, at which school do you teach?
My nephew attends St. Jude’s Primary School.
I’m at St. Jude’s as well and he gave me your message. Thank God for technology, it sure makes keeping in touch possible. Take care of yourself love and stay positive.
Thank you Paulette! Yes, I’d asked my sister if by chance there was a teacher at St. Jude’s with your name and once she said yes, I gave her that message for Nicholai to pass on to you. Small world! Btw, you should totally read this post I wrote about Nicholai. I think as a teacher, you’d especially appreciate it: https://caribscribe.wordpress.com/2012/03/23/i-got-a-letter-in-the-mail-no-not-from-a-bill-collector/
Take care as well and one love.:-)
Am truly touched by your honesty. Made me ponder a few. Thanks for sharing
Thank you! Stay strong and bless up.:-)
Quita… this is very touching. Nikole, gone too soon.
Thanks Mary! Hope all’s well. Much love.:-) x
As usual, a beautifully magnificent story. I am touched. I have never had a best friend die so tragically, but relatives, my fiance (who died at the age of 27) and my mother, who passed in 2010. this month marks her 2nd anniversary. She had so many dreams for me and I had for myself. she was supposed to come to my graduation because my father refuses to come to America. she was supposed to be smiling at me when i walked down the isle and she was supposed to “mind she gran children” because i promised to give her a bevy so that she would not be able to sleep at night (lol). but like her, (her mom passed when she was 8 years old), my children will only have pictures of there grandmother to remember. I still feel sad and outraged because up till now, the doctors who treated her for cancer with chemotherapy and radiation, which ravaged my mom’s body (instead of just giving her palliative care so she could live out the rest of her days in comfort), cannot give a definite diagnosis as to what kind of cancer my mother had. many individuals who knew my mother said they see her laughing and singing in their dreams (my mom loved to sing and she taught the sunday school children to sing). I am awaiting the day when she decides to grace my dreams with her presence so I can see her glorious smile and hear her beautiful singing and not remember how disease beaten she was in her last days. U inspire me with your writing to achieve all that my mom wanted me to achieve and even more. thanks a million. be blest! Peace & Love!
Ann, I’m so sorry for my tardy response! Weird enough, I’m only now seeing this.
As always, thanks for reading and your lovely sentiments.
I remember when your mom passed. I cannot fathom what you must have felt and no doubt still feeling. You remain in my prayers.
Honour your mom’s legacy by being and surpassing all you know she would have expected of you. I’m sure this left this world beyond proud of you. You’re an amazing woman: strong, courageous, a dream chaser, a heart of gold and so importantly, a true soldier in the Lord’s army.
Stay strong sis and I appreciate your continued support.
One love and bless up.:-) xx
I enjoy reading your work and watching you live your dream. I have always reminded myself that to be absent from this world is to be present with our maker. Love this piece!
Awww,thanks ‘Vena – on all counts. Much love sis!:-)
Truly inspiring and amazing
Thank you Winston!
Truly thought provoking. I have not seen you in years Maquita. I am quite proud of you though.
Damani
Wow, that was amazing. I remember you all, especially James, but of you all, I remember his among about 6 other names. But somehow, I cannot remember yours.
Thanks for reading. Unfortunately, I’m not clear on what you’re saying, sorry.
Lovely words for a lovely girl. Be comforted today.
Thank you for keeping my sister’s memory alive in your heart. This piece means so much to my family. 💖
Thanks for stopping by and your kind words. And you are most welcome. Nikole forever touched my life and remains in my heart. More than half a lifetime later, I still think of and miss her. I’m eternally grateful to have learnt the meaning and value of true friendship through Nikole. For that, I give God thanks. And by extension, thanks to her mom and family for nurturing such a gentle spirit, such a beautiful soul — in those oh too few years Nikole walked this earth. To God be the glory for bringing us such an angel. I like to think that she’s watching over us — with that sunshine smile and caring heart. I hope we’re all making her proud. Much love and God’s blessings to you and the family. 🙂