With my Christmas Island adventure wrapped up, I wasn't sure where I was going. I thought about making a B-line for the east coast again but I decided to stick around Perth for a bit so I could explore a bit of Western Australia (WA). It was here in one of the world's most isolated cities that I would meet a very dear lady. She was a damsel in distress on the phone, and got very angry when I asked if she was alright. She walked off with a very cold look, and I went home very sad. I've always been the kind of person to sit with someone and give them a hug if they need it. She came back to me about a week later, and we made amends. Her name was Rebecca, but went by Bec. She was beautiful with (as one of her family put it) a "Mona Lisa" smile. A nice friendship burned brightly, and then I started feeling like it was something more. We would talk every day, and I would always compliment her and tell how much I appreciate her, and I'd suggest some of the cool adventures we could go on. After many conversations I could tell she had been through a lot, and I was prepared to be that really nice, positive person that she needed. She brought a smile to me every time I'd talk to her, and then all of a sudden I stopped hearing from her...
...and I didn't realize I'd be crying whilst attending her service today. I had told Bec several times that I'd love to meet her family, and I would have loved to have told them how special she was (and still is) to me. Today I had that opportunity at a very emotional but touching service. Many people had little notes for her, and then there was a photo tribute. Her mother, father, brothers, aunt, grandmother, several of her cousins, and many friends were all very emotional, and they all really enjoyed a letter that I penned to her...
Dearest Bec,
Words cannot express the pain I’m feeling right now. It’s so hard to imagine you not being here. During these past two weeks, I’ve looked all around with the feeling that you could still turn up at any time. I believe in destiny, and to make it this far was part of a large personal ambition. To get here, I had to endure extreme heat, severe lightning storms, torrential downpours, sleeping on the side of the road, the uncertainty of where I’d end up, and many thousands of kilometres of nothing around. It would be something only seen under a microscope that would keep me here longer. I feel I was destined and privileged to meet you, Bec. The circumstances as to how we met may not have been the most ideal, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. Whilst I went home that evening very hurt, the next morning I made a call to the universe, saying “please, bring her back. I would love to talk to her. I would love to give her a hug and see what was going on.” The universe answered my call and brought you back to me. When you came up to me, it seemed as if you felt I was going to react badly, but no, immediately, I felt your warm heart. I said straight away “give me a hug, this shows you have a great heart.” You immediately earned my full respect when you came up to me that evening, and it was in my heart to forgive you, as it reminded me of one of my favourite quotes:
“No one is born hating another person because of the colour of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite.” -Nelson Mandela
There was something very special and unique about you. The first photo you showed me of you was one where you took a selfie under the bed. I cherish that photo because that’s exactly something I’d do…I’m silly like that. Only a few weeks ago I was sad when Archbishop Desmond Tutu left the world, and I told you a bit about him and how he was a master of forgiveness. Little did I realize; I would be mourning you only a few weeks later. Around then, I took a journey out to the Wheatbelt, and I was dreaming of sharing some of these experiences with you. A gorgeous sunset I saw, which I wished to have witnessed with you. We were supposed to meet up that week, and I was going to ask you if you’d like to be my girlfriend. I wouldn’t have been at all upset if you said no. I remember telling you about Norfolk Island, my favourite place in the world, and how I’d love to take you there. You said “I’ve never been on a plane. I’m too scared,” and I said, “if you’re scared, just hold on to me.” It’s so hard to believe that you’re no longer here, and it pains me to my core knowing that you won’t turn up. Losing you has been within the top three most difficult things I’ve ever had to deal with. Bec, I will never forget your beautiful smile, your warm hugs, and your radiant personality. When we met at the hotel, you lit up the room with your presence. More importantly, you touched my heart. I’m so sorry that I didn’t tell you this sooner but…I love you. Nobody knows how much time we have here on Earth, and you helped remind me to cherish each day with those we love. I’ll never forget the last time I saw you. I gave you a kiss on the cheek and told you how much I appreciate you. I smiled and said, “you have to give me one too,” and you did. You were concerned because you got makeup on one of my favourite shirts, and I thought “as if I’m going to pick on you over that.” That day, I promised to bring you a flower. Being the hopeless romantic that I am, I couldn’t find a floral shop that was open. Today, I have brought you the flower that I promised. Bec, I always just wanted you to be you, and I always appreciated you and loved you the way you were. When you died, a piece of me died. A piece of my heart has gone with you into eternity. Just like how Marilyn Monroe is immortalized in Hollywood, you, Bec, are immortalized in my heart. I promise to forever love you, and keep you close to me. Rest in peace, and rest eternally, sweetheart.
Love Always and Forever,
Chris Farrell
