Goodbye dear friend

I have tried to write this blog a number of times and failed because words seem so insufficient to express all that I feel.

How do you say goodbye forever to a friend who was so dear? I don't know.

By now most of you probably know that our deepest fears came true for our dear friend, Julia. She is no longer with us in this life. I won't go into detail because it's just too painful, but it appears that at least she passed quickly and her attacker has surrendered and been apprehended.

Dear Julia,
We all miss you here. We had a wonderful memorial celebration of you at the US Embassy on April 21. We laughed, we cried, we sang, we viewed a great slide show of you living life here in the Philippines, and we told funny stories and bragged on all your many accomplishments. I must say . . . we did you proud, girl. It was Julia-worthy. You would have loved it. And maybe you were even there. I like to think you were.

It's really hard to think about you being gone for good. REALLY hard. Even though we only knew each other for two years, these have been two really significant years. Two years that in many ways feel like they contain a lifetime worth of lessons and memories.

I remember our first conversation. It was in the Detroit Airport on March 30, 2005. Our flight to the Philippines was delayed for several hours, so to pass the time we went and ate sushi at a Japanese restaurant there. I was enchanted by you. You were the first person I ever knew who actually lived in New York City, was an editor for a newspaper and had written articles published in the New York Times. But to hear you talk, it was no big deal. You were so modest when it came to your accomplishements.

And I remember our last conversation. Fortunately, it lasted for six hours. On April 5, 2007 we rode the bus together from Baguio to Sagada. We talked and laughed all the way. We talked about guys and Peace Corps and our trip around Southeast Asia and we even made plans for me to come visit you in New York next October. You said you would cook for me. You loved to cook.

It's just so hard to believe that you are gone. I know that your spirit will live on within each of us who knew and love you, though. Forever.

Kelly and I have decided to go ahead with our trip. . . the trip that the three of us were planning to take together. You spent so much time researching and planning . . . it's suppose to be all three of us together. We made plans. But plans sometimes change. Nothing is for certain. Not even best-laid plans. Kelly and I both know that you would want us to go ahead with the trip. It won't be the same without you, but we will carry you with us in our hearts and on our lips.

I love you, girl. I miss you. And I will never forget you and all the good times we had together.

In loving memory of Julia Campbell
January 1967 - April 2007