i'm just here

it's been rough.

i just want it all to be a bad dream. i just want her to call. i just want things to go back to the way they were before she had cancer. i just want to be at the point where i moved south to be near school. i just want it all back.

[breaks down]

i've been packing, stacking, re-organizing, pitching, cleaning, taking time for me.

i just want to detach myself from everything. and most everyone, at times.

i can't get happy about much.

some days i just want to sleep and other days i want to be out noticing the world, like tonight, walking my bike home in what is hopefully the last wet, heavy snow of the winter with my hood off and my head up in wild wonder. i just want to notice, and watch and move through things.

and so many things make sense now, like nursing school...
my best friend was diagnosed with cancer 11 days after moving me into my new apartment so i could be closer to school, a move to help me be less tardy, something i'm not good at on my own.
my grandfather was in and out of the ICU in another state. my family spent lots of time and energy being present for him and for that. there wasn't much left over to tend to the needs of someone who couldn't make better decisions to care for herself.
i put two of my best friends on planes out of the country. the two with whom i spent the most time communicating each week. one of whom i was planning to go live near after graduation, the other with whom i'd rack up 300-600 minutes a month between the hours of 11pm and 3am.
i was living on my own. financially responsible for myself. cleaning my apartment. washing my laundry. feeding myself. being nice to myself. getting myself to do my homework. and did i mention i was working part time in the bloody ER?
...who was i kidding?

and now all i want is my best friend back so we can drink too much red wine and listen to this song i can stop playing on my itunes. or this one, which is just a little bit hopeful. and maybe the one i'm really playing to her afterall. ...

Tuesday, February 5th

it was noon. i was taking a lazy day in bed, enjoying the comfort i had created for myself, my refuge from all that i do when i leave my little nest.

BK's husband called.

BK had passed, only half hour or so before.

she was at peace.

she was comfortable.

she was surrounded by her family and her husband.

...

i was supposed to go over in about an hour, anyway. her mom and i were going to sort through some art things. i was going to go sit with her mom, and be comforted. and be comfort. and be.

...

what a weight it was that was lifted from me.

yes, the sorrow still lies in my heart. yes, the sadness still sits in every photo. but i am no longer weighted down with the fear that something else will befall my dearest friend.

she, the warrior.
she, the brave.
she, the one who still cried for me when i showed up at her doorstep broken and weary and moving forward, still.
she, the one who would not let me see things from only one point of view.

...

i arrived a couple of hours later. what a blessing to be invited to spend time with my BK before the kindly gentlemen came to lay her to her final rest.

i stayed with her until the van pulled away.

"run, baby, run." i told her.

i could feel her leaving with her body.

she had to come to terms with what had happened to her body.

...

my mother blogs:

So, I was walking the dog

The weather was actually balmy outside. There were pockets of fog that you walked through and the fog made the night not so dark, almost grey like.

I was thinking about how a year ago it was 10 below zero in Cleveland and we were staying in a hotel having just buried my Dad.

I was thinking how BK died today and is in heaven now, at peace with no more pain or struggle.

I was also thinking how much my daughter will miss her and I was glad that it was not 10 below zero tonight.

My next thought was how Dad would walk Charlie every night.Then, something very strange happened.

Jackson stopped and started acting like someone was there petting him, tail wagging, head up, happy to see someone. I did not see anyone in the area or on the street. It was calm and waves of fog were about me. I felt Dad’s presence and then I heard these words in my mind:

“BK is with us now. She is fun to be with. She loves music and art. She is perfect. Thanks for sending your very best to us. We will be gone for a while now travelling. We will be OK. We have museums to see, great Symphonies to hear and trails to hike. We may even teach her to like Jazz."

I heard Dad chuckle and the conversation was over.

That quick Jackson went back to walking like no one was near. The weather started to chill, the fog lifted, and the wind started to blow. We were home and the peace inside from those moments will be palpable for a while I am sure…

I think life will be grand now. I think everything is going to be OK...

...

yes it will, momma, yes it will.
i know it to be true.

last night i finally had it in me to wash the prayer shawl BK gave me in the sink with a little woolite. a wave of sadness and pain wafted above the water as it grew thick with memory.

i gently needed the sorrow out of the weave. allowed it all to come running out as BK and i allowed it all to come ruinning out before each other. i knew this shawl would come to be that place for me. to carry the things i could not carry anymore for myself. by myself.

i drained the cloudy water and held the wet blanket to the side, watching it all drain away, then refilled the sink with a little more woolite for good measure.

i watched the swirls of tiny suds gather and flow with my hands and i could envision the laughter of my children in this balnket. knew that BK would bless the lives and laughter of my family as it rolled under this blanket, dragging it behind dirty feet with tattered bears and torn books in tow. "mommy, read this one."

i left the fibres to soak while i grabbed a smudge stick.

i knew BK wasn't with me, but i wanted to remind her that it was okay to let go of these things. the sorrow, the pain, the suffering, the adjusting, the loss, the cancer. i wanted to let her know that this was a safe place and that i would be ready for her, one day. and so i began in the living room, over a shelf of artwork she had given me over the years. some trinkets i would never forget her by. as the smoke rose i smiled and heard the laughter and sighs inside of me.

fly, little one, go.

off to the kitchen to bless the yarn gathered just so.

may there be peace in this place.

and finally to the bedroom, where a piece BK and i started together sat, embarasingly, under paper and unimportant books.

may we know joy. may we know peace.

and so mom's words make sense.

she isn't here.

she's making peace with herself. with her life. with her death. with her journey.

and it sounds like she's in the best company. if anyone could get BK to love jazz, g'pa and g'ma N are it. i trust Jack and Betty are there, as well. from one irishman to another.

...

the baby has decided he is done growing in his sleep for the moment.
off to attend to details before i head home to be with the momma for the weekend.

thanks for loving me through it all.

and BK, i'll see you soon.
always,
yors