My memories are sweet, bringing a smile to my face every time. Like when sparklers set my boobs on fire at work and you saved me with a bucket of ice water. A hundred people in the place at that time, of course, boy did they have a wet-t-shirt-night. But we became friends.

Then we buried your father and took all the guests to the wrong kafenion for coffee and Metaxas afterwards. The poor woman there didn’t know front from back as we took all the tables and chairs from her kitchen and while making the coffees.

What a mess! But then again, nothing less was expected from the two of us. Like, when after chemo number three, your beautiful long hair finally gave in. We cried together as I cut it as short as it had to be cut. We laughed our butts off when you saw the result. With a hard-cement-look gel, I had spiked your left-overs. Almost 48 and Angie finally went punk . . . talk about a mid-life crisis.

"Bright eyed and bushy tailed" you took on any challenge in life, even your last and biggest one. In doing so, you have taught all of us a lesson in humanity, perseverance and unimaginable strength.

In this last journey you have now undertaken, I can imagine you are already creating havoc up there. Take it easy on them, babe, they don’t really know you yet!

Your warm big heart, your bubbly personality, your true kindness, your joy for life has left a big gap with your passing, I can only hope we can fill it with the memory of you. It was a true joy to know you and it fills me with pride to have called you my friend. You will be dearly missed, sweetie, but the pain of missing you is dulled by the knowledge that you are free at last.

Farewell

Angie passed Monday morning May 18 at the age of 50; she was buried Tuesday, May 19 at the Gournes cemetery.