I have a certain attitude to Social Media.
I love it and have many great connections but am very aware that if I was in the middle of a field with no connections that most of the people I talk to simply wouldn’t exist. For the 2400+ followers I have on Twitter I know most of them only by their Twitter name.
We share the trials and tribulations of life. We watch TV together. We laugh together and we comfort each other through dark times.
But even so, you only ever know what people type. What they choose to show. You can never truly know someone that you have only spoken to on Twitter.
However sometimes a crossover happens. A connection so strong that it moves beyond Twitter. To email, Skype or even face to face.
Elizabeth was one of those connections.
We started talking on Twitter. @IkenCEO.
We shared a common business background and ended up having a Skype to share ideas on some of her business challenges. We started playing Words With Friends together (online version of scrabble) and it has a chat feature.
We started chatting without the constraints of a 140 characters in Twitter. Soon we moved on to email and our connection grew stronger.
She used some of the lessons I was going through on my transformational journey to help her with her relationship with her mother. She helped me look at things in different ways but was always so supportive in the way she did it. She made me feel safe talking to her and created a relationship where we could talk about anything.
We talked about meeting at some point. She lived down south and I live up north so it was never going to be easy.
Then at the start of the year she told me she had cancer. And it was all through her body.
I was devastated as I know her family would be. She was brave about it despite the fear of the diagnosis. She chose not to have Chemotherapy because of how ill it would make her just for the sake of prolonging her life a small amount. She chose quality over quantity.
Today, I found out from her daughter on Twitter that Elizabeth had died.
Appropriate really to find out in such a way.
In her death, we have lost someone very special. She clearly connected with many others too. I will miss her terribly and my thoughts go out to her family.
To give you an insight into what a truly lovely person she was, I want to share with you 40 things she wrote in my 40th Birthday card. She knew how much I was struggling. Bear in mind, this list is from a person I have never physically met
Forty things about, or for, Dawn
- Life is a marathon, there to be run
- Angels come in the shape of dinner ladies (blog readers won’t understand this – it’s a childhood reference)
- The little one loves her mummy unconditionally
- Heaven is the belief you have done your best
- Starved child, Nourished adult
- Forgiving others, hard on self
- Championed by the hubby
- Lovable
- Change expert
- Starbucks rules OK
- Nice butt
- Persistence personified
- Two miles a day is enough
- Inspired and Inspiring
- Climber of roofs
- Shit happens
- Lighter of candles
- Endorphin generator
- Bringer of new days
- Growing in faith
- Giving makes Dawn whole
- Leaper of chasms
- Seeker of forgiveness
- Blessed by hubby
- Failure is allowed, indeed necessary at times
- Happiness is elusive, wholeness isn’t
- Trevors are generally very special people
- Giver and receiver of love
- Not being miserable is a choice
- Free to laugh, free to cry
- An expanding circle of hugs
- A slap in the face with dew drizzled cobwebs can be very healing (who knew?)
- Excellence award winner
- The past is another country
- Sisterhood is generally worth the effort
- There’s only one way to eat a satsuma (another childhood reference that blog readers won’t get)
- Imbued with Adam and the love he brought
- Lighter of eyes and lives
- Speaker of healing words
- If there were a God he would look down at Dawn and be pleased with his hand work
As you can imagine the tears are flowing as I write this.
Other than Adam, Elizabeth is the only person I have lost that I cared about. Before her I lived in such a protected shell that emotions weren’t allowed.
I miss her and will miss her terribly.
When she knew she was dying, she asked me to promise her I would believe in myself and the truth of my story. I told her, as tears rolled down my cheeks that it was unfair of her to ask that under the circumstances. She apologised and asked me to forgive the intrusion.
She touched my life in ways I wouldn’t have thought possible.
I will miss her x