A Sixth… Year…In and of the Life.: August 2012

Sorry for skipping a week. I lost a very special friend last weekend. The days that have drifted in and out since I got that horrible phone call have been filled with a myriad of emotions…pain, sorrow, joy, hurt, anger, happiness, complacency, emptiness, confusion, peace…some in waves, some overlapping, some all at the same time. Some have lingered, some have left, and some have shone through …

This is a letter to my friend.

Dear Wendy,

Even typing “Dear Wendy” is painful. I don’t know if I ever wrote you a letter that began so formally. Let me start over…

Wen,

Hi. I just wanted to pop in and tell you a few things. I know you already know them, but I wanted to tell you again.

I love you. I miss you. When I heard that you were gone, I was in shock. I thought we were in “this” for the long haul. You were the one always telling me to do what I needed to do to take care of ME. And with that said, I have to know the same is for you-was for you.

When we met so long ago, we were college kids. I noticed your smile….it was so pretty. Yet, I remember noticing right away that you had what they refer to as an “old soul.” Yes, you were always smarter than me, but you were also so much more connected, so much wiser, so much more reflective. You taught me how to do that. Maybe I never told you this, but it was you who told me to reflect back—to grow and learn from myself.

I was so happy that we met, and now, looking back, there are snapshots of memories that flash in my mind…

Like the hole you burnt in my car floor mat with your clove cigarette…

Like the letter you read to us in my car from a boyfriend who still wanted you back and you didn’t know what to do

The road trip we took to Chicago –you read The Deep in of the Ocean on the trip---you could barely put the book down—but when we were on the last leg of the trip, Elena and Jordance were in the back sleep sleeping, and I was driving. We had the most amazing conversation ever—and that is when I knew we were friends for always-we had a connection. You “got me” and I “got you.”

We went to Hocking Hills, and I met all your other friends. I remember feeling I didn’t fit in—but you told me that I was crazy. You always made me feel like I fit…I had the most amazing time on that trip. You showed me another world that I didn’t know. It’s called NATURE. J I promise to teach Maris this too….I promise. She will always know of her Aunt Wendy. Always.

I can still see you at Mekka, on NYE. Brownie Mary was playing, and you said it would be a blast. I watched my former vegetarian friend eat sausage that night. I don’t think you went back to being all veggie ever again. The bar was so crowded—my feet hurt. We laughed so much that night.

I remember calling you after I got engaged—your answering machine picked up (as it always did), but you grabbed the phone when you heard me say, “I have an important question for you”—and then I asked you to be in my wedding.

I still remember telling you in the van on the way to the church that I would never let my mom run my life again…it took me awhile, but I am so glad that you saw me finally do it little by little—you always stood there watching, not understanding, but supporting.

I can still see myself sitting in my car in the parking lot of Columbus State Child Care calling your number after getting a page from you…”I have cancer” you said…and then the next sentence: “I am going to fight it, and I will be ok.” Cancer didn’t know who it was messing with—you kicked its ass. So many times as you were fighting, I would think…if Wen can do this…I can do___. You were always an inspiration…not figuratively—literally. You gave me strength…I hope I told you that.

When I came to Denver for the first time, you whisked me up a mountain, splashed me down a creek-got me addicted to Sex in the City (and I cry again now…we made a pact to only watch the movies together, and we never saw Part 2—damnit!…) It was on that mountain in Denver—after seeing waterfalls for the first time—that I told you and Elena I wanted more. You supported me as I went back to school to get my teaching degree at 29. You cheered for me always… Wen, I am going to get that master degree. I am. Promise.

At Elena’s wedding, your hair was growing back from all of the chemo…You let me style your hair in the bathroom. You looked so lovely. We danced with the pig, we laughed, we drank too much…I remember you lost the flower from your dress, and you were secretly happy because you said the flower wasn’t “you..” J

I remember so vividly seeing you so happy in Leadville. The snow was so peaceful. You were celebrating 5 years cancer free, and I felt so much pride. You were the person who was always so successful in my eyes. You were a free spirit –so intelligent --so grounded. I left that visit wanting to be more like you-but I didn’t know how. You took me snowshoeing, and I wish I had told you that dredging my feet up that snowy mountain with vigor and positivity was for you. I wanted you to be proud of me. I think you were. I don’t know why I wanted that so much, but I did. I still do. When I came home from that trip, I told Tim…”she is happy.” I was so proud of you—so in awe of you.

I can see all the nights we sat at my table, drinking wine…until our teeth were purple. We talked about everything. You always told me to put ME first. I can still hear you saying, “and how is that helping YOU?” and …damnit, you were always right.

The night we grilled pizza, the night we went to the Wine Fest at the Franklin Park Conservatory, the first time we ate raw oysters at Barcelona, the day we say Sex and the City Part 1 (after everyone else already had), and we cried. We had no idea it would be so emotional. Then we met all your friends at the Ocean Club…oh you loved the “truffled” anything!!

I can see you at Nordstrom trying on that little blue shirt. “Too fancy” is what you said. It became your favorite shirt. We went to the Ocean Club this evening also…oh, we really racked up a large bill that night-then we went to Fados—the perfect summer evening. I remember the dry ice in our martinis made you laugh--

I see you beating my ass at Scrabble, dancing in my living room (oops, there goes the red wine on the carpet), sitting at the Rossi telling me that the salmon was “definitely farm raised!!” I see you at the Jersey shore putting on sunscreen for about 15 minutes and yelling at me to do it, too! I see you at the Urgent Care –both of us terribly hungover—because you really twisted your ankle-we had to go and get you crutches! There was so much snow outside…all we could do was laugh and hold our aching heads.

You encouraged me to recycle, to hike, to take care of our world. Your dedication to our world truly touched me, inspired me, and it changed how I take care of our world..how I teach my students. Honestly, you did that. I would never have done some of the things I have without your encouragement. I know you would deny this…but it is simply the truth. You changed me…impacted me, and now, you are a part of who I am every day. No, I am not being grandiose, as you would say, I am being real. J

I see you hugging your friends, saying “hi” with that beautifully sweet sincere voice. I can hear it now “hi.” …I miss that. I miss it.

I see you getting in the car for our last visit. I picked you up at the airport on your birthday. You looked so beautiful. Your skin glowed with joy. When you held Maris…she looked at Aunt Wendy. I am so unbelievably grateful that you had a chance to meet her….to see Tim and I finally have a baby. You taught me not to give up…you told me over and over that I could not give up. I listened to you. Thank you.

We went and got massages—you were always telling me to pamper myself, and now I tell everyone else. We got our nails done—we shopped. You bought me the coolest shirt for my birthday. We went to Bettys…and we had one of our last really amazing conversations face to face… I told you that day as I did so many many times—you need to finish your memoir!! Your story needed told… now, it is up to all of us to tell it… I promise to do my part.

I see you in the car on the way to my birthday party…I see you at Barcelona, toasting life. You told Tim and I that when you toast, you must always look into each person’s eyes. Tim and I will do this for the rest of our days, and we will always always think of you…

I could go on and on because as you know, there are a millon little moments I didn’t mention…but these are the fast flashes. I see your face every day. You were such a damn good person in your heart and soul. You were always looking for the good…you were the person I would tell people, “Wen is just really nice.” Nice is not a word that I could use to describe many people. Nice is hard to be…you were nice, truly nice and kind and loving. I said it earlier, but I wanted to be like you…I still do. Yet, I know you are a part of me inside my heart…you have shaped who I am today. I truly am better for knowing you, for loving you, for having you in my world….and in so many others’ worlds.

I taught you to text and to use Facebook. One of your last voicemails to me was at the beginning of July. I still have it. On it you said you were reading my blog and catching up on my life. You told me in the message that you were so grateful to be a part of my “balance beam.” You told me not to call you back (as you always did)…you told me you loved me. You texted me a week later telling me you loved me “immensely.” My last text to you was on Thursday before you left…it was a picture of Maris that said “I love you.” I do, I love you. So many love you, so so many. You were one hell of a woman—a spirit like yours will carry on… I know this and I believe this.

The other day, I went walking. You were there. I know it. I could feel it. I asked God for peace, and the sun brightened. I asked God for comfort, and the breeze blew. I know it was you. Tim said it is almost like you are the mother of nature now…As I type this, the sun is shining brightly. That, my friend, my sweet, sweet friend, is all you. That is how I find peace now. I find it knowing you are at peace. I find it knowing you are still here-in a hundred little ways all around me. I know this. I believe this. I believe this. I believe this.

I apologize that this letter is all over the place. You told me once to keep writing, and I will. I promise.

When you left for Denver all those years ago, I had no idea how strong our friendship would become. I am so blessed…so blessed. You are forever a part of who I am..forever a part of our family. I love you, Tim loves you, and Maris loves you.

I didn’t go to your going away party all those years ago—I told you Tim was sick. I lied. I couldn’t say good-bye. I still can’t, and I won’t. I will just say…see you later. Keep shining.

Love you always,

Meeshka, Mich, Michelle

P.S.

~you loved this song--hell, we both LOVE it... (we loved the movie-remember when we made Elena watch it, I don't think she liked it as much, ha ha!!)...it makes me think of you....as I cry, I know, "there's beauty in the breakdown." ....

P.S.S. Oh, and one more thing...because I know you would ask me... I'm going to be ok. No, really, I am. Promise.

A Sixth… Year…In and of the Life.

Sunday, August 26, 2012

week 26 of 40 ...I'm back :)

Monday, August 13, 2012

A letter to my friend.

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