She said she hopes we get to visit again sometime soon -- without feeling the need to talk solely about breast cancer. I have the same hope. Yet I am deeply satisfied with the conversation we shared about our similar cancer journeys -- mine two years old; hers brand new.

We had never before met -- or even spoken -- and knew each other only from an exchange of e-mails. It was this Cancer Blog that drew us together. She left a comment on one of my posts, I sent her a personal e-mail, and swiftly, our friendship blossomed.

I met my newest cancer friend this weekend -- face-to-face, up close and personal. It was lovely. We talked about chemotherapy -- she just completed her second treatment -- and wigs and radiation and about how our husbands and children cope with cancer. We talked for more than an hour, and then went our separate ways.

And now we are back to e-mail correspondence and our shared hope -- that we will one day meet again, to talk about more than just breast cancer.

Farrah Fawcett has been battling anal cancer for six weeks now and is two-thirds of the way through an intensive six-week regimen of chemotherapy and radiation.

Fawcett, 59, has been enduring radiation therapy five days per week since October 13 and is taking the side effects -- fatigue, nausea, sleeplessness, and pain -- in stride. Fortunately, she has a strong support network that includes Ryan O'Neal, her son Redmond, her father James, and most recently -- Charlie's Angels.

On November 1, Jaclyn Smith and Kate Jackson joined Fawcett at her Beverly Hills condominium and did what they say they've been doing ever since finding fame and friendship on Charlie's Angels 30 years ago. They talked and laughed and gossiped and ate. Just like old times.

Doctors say Fawcett is responding well to treatment as she charges forward. With a little help from her friends -- and angels.

In July 2005, Amy Wilson was diagnosed with breast cancer. In the months that followed, Amy endured a lumpectomy, a mastectomy, reconstruction, and chemotherapy. In January 2006, Amy's treatment ended. And she set off on a journey of survivorship.

In August 2006, Amy found out her cancer had spread to her brain and lungs. Her doctors gave her two to 12 months to live. On Thursday, October 5, 2006, Amy died. She was 35 years old.

Amy became my friend shortly after her original diagnosis and eight months after my own breast cancer diagnosis. A mutual friend brought us together and for a little more than one year, we shared a rich connection, cemented in shared struggles and victories. Through phone conversations and e-mail exchanges and cards and gifts sent through the mail, Amy and I shared a special friendship. But I never looked Amy in the eye, never offered her a hug, never met her husband and children. I knew her only from a distance. Still, our partnership was powerful. It was comforting. And sadly, it is over.

Our same mutual friend called me Friday morning to tell me Amy had passed away -- a mere 15 months after her battle began, three months shy of the end-of-treatment anniversary she happily anticipated, five years from the age of 40 -- the age she had determined would mark her first true survivor milestone.

I miss Amy. I miss the pieces of hope that vanished with her death. I miss that I never met her, never hugged her, never said goodbye.

Amy, whose journey was chronicled in her local Ohio newspaper, is survived by her husband, her two children -- Luke, age five and Ella, age two -- and among others, her mother, who is currently fighting her own breast cancer battle.

It was not until completing my chemotherapy that I came across an amazing volunteer organization called ChemoAngels. This organization is dedicated to bring some rays of sunshine into the lives of those going through treatment for cancer. You can join as an angel or you can join as a patient.

If you are a patient going through cancer treatment you can sign up and get your own personal chemo angel. What this means is that you would find in your mailbox a few gifts or cards each week from your angel. Going through chemotherapy or radiation is such an emotional time and getting these cards and gifts really can lift up the patients spirits.

The Secret Language of Girlfriends: Talking Loudly, Laughing Wildly, and Making the Most of Our Most Important Friendships, written by the queen of comfort Karen Neuburger, is a book sharing the funny, enlightening, uplifting and sometimes sad stories of women and how no matter what happens in the life of a woman -- she can always count on her girlfriends to be there. Neuburger chronicles the stages of a woman's life -- from child rearing and workplace bonding to menopause and beyond. The book contains party ideas, recipes, crafts and craft disasters, and the ceremonies women use to cement and celebrate their friendships. The last chapter is devoted to daughters and how mothers pass the secret language of girlfriends to the next generation --  a group of girlfriends who totally have your back but always put you out in front.

A portion of book profits go to The Breast Cancer Research Foundation, in honor of girlfriends everywhere. While it is a last-minute gift idea for Mother's Day, it is an excellent gift idea for mom any day of the week. Right after you give your mother a copy of this book, tell her about The Secret Language of Girlfriends website, where she can find the Broad Squad, book clubs, newsletter, and other fun.