OPINION:
Three days before my friend Vanessa (I could not use her real name) died, she could see a man in her room whom no one else could. The first time she mentioned him, I was confused and said nothing. Eventually, I asked who it was. She closed her eyes, turned her face to me and smiled. She didn’t offer a name. She just whispered, “I’m excited.” My skin crawled with goosebumps at the peace and joy she felt. My eyes welled with tears. As I gripped her hand in those final hours, my mind flashed back nearly 23 years earlier when Vanessa and I were in a different room: the CIA headquarters space affectionately known as “The Bubble.”
Greeting us was CIA Director George Tenet. It was two months after the Sept. 11, 2001, attacks. She leaned into me as he spoke and whispered, “I’m excited!” That was when Vanessa became the sister I never had. She was one of the many women who locked arms to serve the CIA’s mission after 9/11 to recruit spies and keep America safe. We had gifts to offer in that clandestine world, but Vanessa and her talents were different.
When she walked into a room at headquarters, she gave our work a solemn sense of purpose and speed. She commanded junior and senior officers with grace and savvy, not grandstanding. She had a knack for spotting opportunities and risks. She made us feel safe and grounded. I remember one moment vividly. I had left the agency the year before and was overwhelmed with wedding prep, living in a state where my fiance’s family was my only support.
I felt alone and missed my “sister.” Out of the blue, she called to check in. Although I was excited to get married, I missed my old life — and her. She listened patiently and, when I finished rambling, said, “I’m coming out there to help you.” That weekend, she flew in, held my hand, made a few tough wedding decisions for me, and we just spent time together. It meant the world.
As the years ticked by, Vanessa’s challenges switched from the badlands abroad to the battles inside her body. The first was Havana syndrome, a mysterious and debilitating condition that has left too many in pain and confusion, with little support. Then came her cancer diagnosis in 2023: stage four cholangiocarcinoma. It’s a cruel, rare cancer that most people don’t know exists until it’s too late to stop it. That was the case for her. In that final year of her life, Vanessa kept fighting. As her body failed her and the chemo sapped her of energy, she tried to speak to members of Congress for intelligence officers like her suffering from anomalous health incidents. Those meetings were often canceled without explanation. She was frustrated and exhausted, but she kept fighting.
She walked those hallways on Capitol Hill with unsteady grit for one last mission: the truth about Havana syndrome. Sadly, she died before she got the truth. When I let go of her hand for the last time, I thought a lot about her life and how much I would miss her. As I flew home, I couldn’t shake the thought of the man she could see in the room with us whom I couldn’t. Was it a delusion? Was it an angel? Neither Vanessa nor I was religious. She long questioned the possibility of an afterlife. I very much agreed, but something changed in those final days of her life. In her and in me. A few months after I got home, some friends asked whether I wanted to attend church with them. I can’t explain why, but I said yes. Walking into the nave, I watched my skin pop with the same goosebumps as I had last seen Vanessa.
My eyes welled with tears. Although I couldn’t see a man in the corner, I felt him. It was the Holy Spirit. As impossible and unprovable as it may be, I felt Vanessa, too. That’s why, on this anniversary of her death, I know she is not just a memory. She is a spirit now. She is a voice in my head, a warmth in my chest, a quiet nudge when I need it most. Although we no longer sit together at “The Bubble” or in a war zone base, I know Vanessa is still with me. She is in every room I enter and every path I travel.
• Erin O’Loughlin was a CIA case officer from 2000 to 2010. She served in multiple posts overseas.
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