Erica S. Flores is a third-year student majoring in sociology
with a minor in public policy.
By Erica S. Flores
Two weeks ago, I attended the funeral of my best friend. She was
found at home in her bed, in a coma. As soon as the ambulance
arrived, she was rushed to the hospital where doctors discovered
she had a brain tumor. But it was too late. Brandi Wojcik was
declared brain dead and, within hours, I received a call from her
mother, who told me she was not expected to make it through that
day. In a matter of seconds, I was in my car and on the way to the
hospital. When I got there, I was greeted by her childhood friends
that I had only heard about. I said goodbye to Brandi and told her
how much I loved her and that I would never forget our special
friendship. The next evening, she passed away.
It all happened so fast. In the span of only a few hours, I lost
my best friend … my roommate … my study buddy … my shopping
partner … my college soul mate. Suddenly, Brandi was gone.
It is impossible to be prepared for something like this. Brandi
never experienced any symptoms. Occasionally she got a headache,
but almost every college student suffers from a headache once in a
while. At 20 years old, there was never any reason for her to
spontaneously get a CAT scan. As painful as this tragedy has been,
I take comfort in knowing that Brandi did not suffer. She slipped
into a coma in her sleep and probably never even knew she was sick.
The biggest shock came to those of us she left behind …
Just before my freshman year at UCLA, I received a call from my
future roommate letting me know that she was switching from our
double room in Hedrick Hall to a triple, for financial reasons.
I was saddened, but I understood her decision and anxiously
awaited the day I would meet her replacement.
One week later, I moved into the residence hall, having not yet
received the name or phone number of this mystery roommate. Soon
after I arrived with my family, Brandi walked in with her mother.
We clicked immediately and, before I knew it, my mom was ready with
her camera to take a picture of the new roommates.
Brandi’s mom was in tears as she said goodbye to her daughter
and, as if we were old family friends, my mom consoled her and
assured her that we would be just fine. I didn’t realize that
Brandi would eventually become a part of my family.
I soon learned that Brandi worked backstage at Disneyland in the
costume department. She looked a little like Alice In Wonderland
because of her long blond hair and pale white skin. I’m several
inches shorter, with curly brown hair and dark skin, so my mom
always referred to us as her "night and day girls." But the
differences stopped there.
In getting to know each other, we found we were very much alike.
We had two of almost every CD because we listened to the same
music. Our wardrobes were similar. We were both good students and
we had similar goals. Usually, we did not even have to finish our
sentences because we always knew what the other was thinking.
Sometimes, we thought we were really the same person.
Our two years together in the residence halls were priceless. We
were constantly teased for having the perfect roommate
relationship. For one thing, we truly respected each other. Even
after we became best friends, we never took each other for granted.
When one of us was going to be late, we called to let the other
know.
One evening, I remember Brandi never came back from campus. I
asked everyone to look out for her and, just as I was starting to
get really worried, she walked in. I started to cry because I was
so glad to see her. It turned out that she had left me a note on
our door, but it had blown away. She had been working on a group
project at a classmate’s apartment.
I realized at that moment what a special relationship we had and
that I couldn’t imagine my life without her.
We grew together, from timid college freshmen to self-assured
independent college women. We talked about everything from politics
and career goals to movie stars and boys (Brandi and I called all
guys "boys"). We both developed an expensive card-shopping hobby.
We would spend hours at stores buying cards for future birthdays,
or for anniversaries, or just to say hello to our friends at other
colleges.
Every once in a while, she would give me a card convincing me
that a research paper was going to turn out fine, or that a
relationship would improve. I would give her cards letting her know
how much I missed her on the weekends when she had to work and that
I was so proud of her for balancing her many obligations. We always
expressed how fortunate we were to have met each other and how we
would be friends for life. Each card was signed with the love that
only friendship can provide.
Brandi bought me pajamas that affectionately became known as the
sassy purple pajamas. Prior to meeting her, I hated purple. I took
her to San Francisco with me one weekend during summer and it was
then that we planned all the other trips we would one day take
together. Recently, we planned our weddings. I was going to be her
maid of honor and she would be mine. The only thing we needed was a
boy for her and one for me.
Now I embark on a new school year without her, and I know my
life will be different; for one thing, I will no longer be able to
meet Brandi at Jimmy’s Coffeehouse for a Cappuccino Royale between
classes. Right now, I look back at all those meetings on campus and
cry, but with time, I’m sure I will look back on them and
smile.
The tragic death of my best friend has made me painfully aware
of how short life is. I have learned that friendship is everything.
Brandi’s spirit has lived on in the phone calls, cards, visits,
hugs and e-mail messages I have been receiving each day. My
friendship with Brandi was special, but now I look around me and I
feel the love and support of friends and family members. That is
something I will cherish forever. Side by side with the memory of
my dear friend, Brandi.