My column counterpart and friend of four years, Diane Glass, died today. This has been a very difficult month, as Diane only learned that she had cancer 5 weeks ago, and because the family wanted to respect her privacy, we couldn’t really share with others all that was going on. Even though those of us who cared about her were hurting with her, and her family. Yesterday, however, it became public knowledge, as her ‘farewell column’ ran in the AJC and dozens of other papers. (You can see that here: http://www.ajc.com/blogs/content/shared-blogs/ajc/woman/entries/2007/07/29/
whats_important.html) And only a few hours later, at 3:15 this morning, she lost her intense and short battle.
It is extremely difficult for me to put into words what I’m feeling right now. Diane and I were sparring partners, and disagreed on almost everything. But behind the scenes we were collegial business partners - and eventually became friends. And I’m dealing with the sadness of someone who has lost not only a business partner - and thus the column in the way I always knew it - but also someone I cared about a great deal. Yes, she got her claws out in print, and one thing that was distinctive about her was her rather acerbic and sometimes sarcastic wit. But we never took our in-print disagreements personally, and always had a mutual respect and collaboration behind the scenes. That ability to agree to disagree, and the realization that you can disagree without being disagreeable, is one thing that so many more people need to learn in these fractured and contentious days.
I’m very grateful that in her final weeks, the Lord really showed how much he loved her through many unmistakable circumstances. Diane had been a stated agnostic for many years. She’d always said she was an agnostic not because she didn’t believe there was a God, but because she didn’t believe we could know one way or another. The last time we were together, she had the courage to pray with me and reach out to Him. Now, she’s crossed into eternity, and I believe she is truly filled with new life.
I’m grateful for that. But I miss my friend.