I first met Molly when I was a sophomore at Beloit. I was anxious to get back to campus to see all of my friends and to meet more exciting, smart people. That first week back on campus, I was lucky enough to share a floor with Molly–a bright, vibrant and intelligent woman who quickly became a part of our elitist group. She made me a series of business cards–of which I still have some–that I had talked about one day in our communal lounge. One is stock black card with “Whitey” in white. The other is stock white card with “The Man” in black.
We drifted apart a bit the next year, but Molly wouldn’t let me disappear from her radar. She would call me, write me and just drop in to say “hi” whenever she missed me. She called me and Skyped me when she went to live in China–hell, she brought me back a beautiful red lacquered serving tray–and we had always talked about hanging out again.
Then Molly got sick. Back in school, she had a few weird illnesses, but she always came back stronger than before. I didn’t think anything of it. I don’t think she thought much of it either as she had a giant tumor removed from her abdomen. I remember talking to her about it–the damn thing had teeth and hair, and it freaked/amused her to no end–that we would hang out when she was better. I offered her and her husband my condo while she got better.
This time, Molly never got better. When they removed this tumor, the doctors discovered a rare and very aggressive form of ovarian cancer. Last night, at 10:55 she passed away.
Last week, when I was talking to our mutual friend Zach, I mentioned that, “If anyone can beat this, Molly can.” I believed that then–even though I thought her chances were slim–and now I’m in shock. I arrogantly thought that because I’ve experienced loss before, I would be able to deal with this better. All I can think about is how much I will miss Molly–how we will never get a chance to reminisce or rebuild our friendship. I can’t help but think about her husband Matt, and the pain he is going through. My heart goes out to him, and the rest of Molly’s family, as they go through this.
I’m very sorry.
That’s all I can say.
I’m sorry about Molly. What a nice tribute to her. Even though you didn’t keep in touch the way you wished you had, you seemed to really connect with her just the same and she with you.
It hit me hard too; I kept thinking she was going to beat it, even after her mom said they’d moved to her to Hospice. I didn’t think it’d be easy, but if anyone could it’d be Molly.
I still have my “Whitey” and “The Man” cards too.
Bye Molly, we’ll miss you.
I remember having the same reaction when I first heard about her tumor. I thought “no biggie for the girl who just survived 2 years in China.” I’m still in shock.