Why Life-Long Friendships Are Stronger Than Cancer

(A personal reflection of the friendship I shared with Kerrie Valdner-Flynn)

Last week was a sad week; cancer took away a close friend. But life-long friendships never die.

While cancer may have taken Kerrie, it did not touch our relationship. It could not erase the beautiful memories I have of a fifty-year-plus association. I feel lucky to have Kerrie as a lifelong friend. We go as far back as elementary school. A whole group of us are still comrades from those early days.

Life-Long Friendships Never Die

Kerrie was the epitome of health, but cancer is relenting. It strikes when it chooses, regardless of age, sex, or ethnicity. It is an evil disease. It is also mysterious. There is no rhyme or reason for cancer. Some people fight it off and live long, productive lives. Other people spend months or years fighting it before eventually succumbing to it.

If cancer can take Kerrie, no one is safe from this disease. She lived a clean life. Kale was part of her diet before I had even heard of it! I learned the health benefits of ginger from her.

Kerrie was a healer. She was a massage therapist and quite popular in her field. Anytime I encountered someone in the industry, I would ask if they knew Kerrie Flynn, and they always did. She also worked her “magic” on Olympic Athletes, Joffrey Ballet dancers, and regular folks.

Kerrie taught massage therapy and yoga. She shared her skills and techniques and became an advocate for physical therapy. She often was a speaker at industry gatherings.

In my opinion, cancer did not win this one. It was far too late. Kerrie had already “touched” thousands of lives before being diagnosed with uterine carcinoma. I am grateful for that.

According to the National Cancer Institute, 65,620 women in the United States are estimated to be diagnosed with Uterine Cancer in 2020. Of that, twelve-thousand five hundred and ninety women are expected not to survive. https://seer.cancer.gov/statfacts/html/corp.html

That is a lot of women!

Kerrie lasted just under six months from diagnosis to passing. Cancer was too quick. She wanted to fight and destroy her cancer. We talked about how she was going to beat it. Her friends and family rallied around her and encouraged her. She had her “dukes up” and tried very hard.

Prayer warriors begged daily for her to get healthy. But her cancer was too strong, and it swiftly took her.

My heart hurts. This was not supposed to happen. Kerrie was going to beat her cancer. It’s shocking to me that she did not. Kerrie took great care of herself. She ate well and exercised. She looked so healthy! And, then, she didn’t.

As a cancer survivor, I cannot help but wonder why my life was spared, yet hers was not. So many questions! I had planned on giving her my insider tips to withstand chemo treatments. I never got the chance.

The older I get, the more I realize how fleeting life is. (Please forgive me for starting to sound like my mother/father.) We’ve all seen the memes and slogans of “Live for Today,” “Carpe Diem,” etc. Do you do that? Does anyone?

I find this whole life/death thing overwhelming. The more I think about it, the more anxious I become. I suppose this is common for people who recently lost a loved one. Somehow, knowing that doesn’t make it any easier.

I visited with Kerrie while she was in a Hospice facility. It was five days before she died. I had not seen her for three weeks prior. The change in her was unbelievable. It was hard for her to speak, but she could understand everything. Coincidentally, another friend, Barbara, was visiting Kerrie when I arrived. (Barb also went to elementary school with us.)

We were quite the little mischiefs, (along with a couple of other friends) back in the day. We made our mark from Flushing, Queens, to Rocky Point and eventually Jamesport, Long Island. Luckily, there is no proof of this. Cell phone cameras were not invented (thank you, Jesus).

We had lots of memories to reminisce with Kerrie that day. We got her laughing pretty well a few times. At one point, Barb left to make a phone call, and I was alone with Kerrie. I was sitting close to her and holding her hand (wearing my mask, of course).

She opened her eyes and said clearly, “This is nice.” I said, “Yes, this is very nice” (thinking she was referring to me holding her hand and sitting with her). She then told me that she was sitting and chatting with Hillary Clinton on the White House lawn. Hillary was thanking her for being such a good Democrat. Can you imagine?

The morphine had kicked in. When Barb returned, I told her Kerrie thought she was sitting with Hillary. Barb egged her on and asked how Hillary was doing. It was hilarious.

Shortly after that, Kerrie came back to us and laughed along with us. She said morphine could make you think anything! It was bizarre for her to be with us one minute and off in morphine land the next. It was so hard to take it all in. Everything felt surreal.

However, I do believe it was a good visit for her. We sang a few verses of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” along with the grammar school crowd favorite, “Kumbaya.” We often performed that one at St. Kevin’s when we were younger.

It was quite a touching visit. It is the last memory I will have of her.

I have hundreds of other memories of Kerrie, though. I remember hosting a surprise birthday party for her in seventh grade. She was shocked.

I remember how she scared me when she was a cheerleader. She had no fear. She would climb up on a mountain of girls, throw her arms in the air, and smile gorgeously. Always Queen of the Hill!

We played CYO basketball together. We sang “Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard” while hanging out at the St. Kevin’s “courts.” I remember being thrilled for Kerrie when she was accepted into the High School of Performing Arts in NYC. She was such a talented dancer!

None of us were surprised when Kerrie took a job at Ringling Brothers Circus in Italy some years later, where she rode elephants. I swear I am not making this up!

She had such an exciting life. Eventually, she became a massage therapist and opened her own business. She sold that business and started working out of her home. She sometimes worked as a private masseuse for personal yacht charters and could travel.

Of course, there were lots of other things that happened in between then and now. I am giving you the short version of Kerrie to get to know her just a little bit.

Kerrie was extraordinarily kind and generous. She was the first one to volunteer to help you. Forever able to live in the present, she always knew how to have fun. She was the life of the party.

As sick as she was, she still made sure she voted in the Presidential election this year. She wanted to exercise her right to vote. Gosh, I am going to miss her passion!

With over fifty years of friendship, I could go on and on. Thank God, cancer will never take my memories. Please smile at a stranger or hum a bar of “Kumbaya” in Kerrie’s honor today. RIP, my sweet friend.