Tonight I said goodbye to my friend of 30 years, Bonnie Horne.
She was a hero in the truest sense. Battling not one but several cancers over the last 10 years, she defied the odds and the expectations of her small garrison of doctors at Dana Farber over and over again. She braved multiple operations, repeated chemotherapies and the slow decline of her healthy, sturdy body. And she went about this protracted struggle with a fortitude and a will that could at times almost blind you with the white hot intensity of her desire to stay on just a little longer. And during that time many of us learned from her—about grace under pressure, the power of the mind/body connection, the warrior’s tenacity needed to navigate the overwhelmingly complex rat’s nest also known as the American medical system.
Bonnie was unlike anyone else I know. She was one of those rare people who everybody likes. I have never met anyone who had a sour thing to say about her. Part of her “universal donor” appeal was because she so genuinely delighted in human beings of every stripe and size. But it was also because she had a masterful ability to be diplomatic without being disingenuous, candid yet tactful, an exceptional listener who also had an irrepressible wit. Each of my children had their own very personal relationship with her, one that did not come with that passive-aggressive, eye rolling “whatever” response that is the easiest dismissal of anyone over 30. None of that for Bonnie. She was cool. They all said so.
Bonnie’s friendships exemplify the tolerance and latitude of love that she lived in. She was as comfortable and easy with her MacArthur Genius Grantee pal Laurel as she was with the receptionist at the cancer center. Although she had a very defined sensibility and had strong opinions about many things in her life, she was not a judger of other humans. Aesthetics demanded a high bar, but the doorway for people was big and wide.
Over a year ago Bonnie read Barak Obama’s book, Dreams of my Father. She told us then that she had a hunch he would win. Back then that was a risky position and one that none of us were willing to take with quite the same level of conviction. So it was not without significance that she lived to see his inauguration, setting out on her own the day after this new era of our lives began.
The hole in me is deep and wide. As it should be.
My daughter Kellin with Bonnie Horne, Christmas 2008
Deborah – i am so sorry for the loss of your friend. She sparkles in that photo with Kellin. But what a privilege for both you and Bonnie that your paths interconnected and have generated such great memories. Maybe Bonnie’s passing can be compared to her having moved into a room in your memory house. If you really stop and listen you’ll hear her through the walls – she will always be there! G
G, what a wonderful image–listening for her through the walls. Thank you for that.
……tolerance and latitude of love she lived in….is a picture of a beautiful soul that communed with all she met and will continue to live in the loved she left behind.
My sincere condolences for your loss.
Di
Deborah, I am so sorry. You were a magnificent and true friend to Bonnie. Though not being privileged to know her, I have been moved by her story of struggling for 10 years with a fatal illness, to triumph again and again. What a dragon slayer. She is one of those whom cancer could kill — just — but not destroy. Death be not proud.
Deborah-I’m a recent visitor to your blog so don’t know much about Bonnie’s story. but as someone who has lost both friends and family to cancer and a cancer survior myself, I’ve learned the lessons of simplicity.
Loss is universal – grief is personal. Please accept my condolences.
– J.
Thank you Di, Elatia, J. The service is tomorrow, so I’m mulling over years of knowing her to find the right things to say about her life. Daunting to capture the essence of her in a spoken tribute on a Saturday afternoon.
You know that I just found out this morning as I opened an email from Judy. . No one told me. I am stricken. Bonnie was and will always be a very important part of my life. I have often thought of her and what she has meant to me. Her shining example of what a good loving human being has always been a model for me. I find comfort that in two ways. I will always remember in that she passed on my brothers birthday and that she chose beautiful Mt. Auburn, That is also my choice and has been since I was 8. We were alike in that she and I , long range planning. Thanbk yo for the picture of both Kellan & Bonnie. The last time that I saw Kellan, she had baggy tights and was just a wee adorable sprite. I last saw Bonnie at a lunch she and I had a few years ago, before rehab. I will always remember her beaytiful shining spirit at her 65th birthday party, and she will always be my beloved Beehive teacher. I’m sorry but I cant go on… I love her and Miss her so much
Edy, What a wonderful memory of dearest Bonnie. Thank you for posting it here.