Tabby.

I've never had to watch a friend be lowered into the ground before. It's difficult. It's breath taking. It's time stopping. It's quiet and loud. The image of the flowers laid on top of her casket burn in my eyelids. The sound of her dad telling the large crowd that he'll miss her, but he knows she's not far from us. It's heartbreaking and in the wrong order. Dad's should not burry their daughters.

But even better, the image of her smile, the sound of her voice, the memories she gave to me will never be lost. Tabby lives inside me. I'll forever remember her as sweet, and a lover of life. She was brave, warm and always encouraging. She loved. If I could use only one word to describe her, it would be that. She loved. The best thing about her funeral: it was standing room only. You know you have a good friend when the church runs out of seats. The church was so packed the lobby was full all the way to the doors outside. People cried, and then we laughed when we celebrated her life. Because Tabby is worth celebrating. Today, and tomorrow.

I must give my hat to her husband Eric, for marrying someone he knew had cancer. It takes a certain kind of man to stay with a girl who is sick. It takes a man to put his wife's feelings and life first, instead of his own. It would have been so easy for him to walk away when he was told she had cancer, but he stayed! He stayed by her side the whole time-loving her. That gives me hope. Tabby found her soulmate, and she glowed!

Thank you for your smile. That infectious smile.

God takes the good ones

Yesterday I woke up to some awful news: I had lost a friend to cancer.

29 years old.


It's sad that it takes a death of a loved one to make me reassess my own life, and evaluate relationships.

To celebrate my friend, I'm going to allow myself to say no to things I don't really want to do; take more precious moments to drink tea and sit on the deck; and walk longer with the dogs when I need more alone time. In ways it's sad that I've allowed my life to become full of obligations: committees and organizations to sit-in on, groups, fundraising events, volunteering with my church, and other ridiculous things I've signed up for because I felt I might make a difference, or it could improve my quality of life in one way or another. But the truth is, it hasn't and they won't. The truth is, I am just busy and not very happy.

Tabby was always happy. Even when she was fighting with cancer she still smiled a genuine smile. She was brilliant. I used to try and score better on assignments than her, but could never. She was strong. I've never met a woman more strong or emotionally stable than her. She was the woman you would find yourself opening up to, sharing every detail with as you knew that she would never judge you, or share your words with anyone else. She was elegant and grace-filled. You'd never see her with mustard on her sleeve, or dirt under her nails, but she was never a high-maintence kind of girl either. Just naturally beautiful. I only hope she knew how loved, and admired she is.


It's hard to understand: His plans, the reason He takes the good ones from us so soon. But, I must trust in Him.

march one

Colors so bright, they broke my heart.

–Donna Tartt, The Secret History

Jim, it seems like only a short while ago a friend held my hand while I let you go. As a believer, a person who trusts there is more to life than this, I hope and I pray that your life is only over here. That somewhere, somehow, you are dancing. 


Here, I miss you.


(i swear to you people, someday i will let her go. but how? )
 

I still cry for you.

It's hard to believe at the end of this month it has only been one year since Jimmy left this world. It feels like longer. I somehow have faith she is in a better place where she has finally learned to love the water and fetch sticks for whom ever is tossing them.

Not a day goes by that I don't still think of her. I only hope she knows I tried really hard to give her the best life I could. 

I hope she felt loved, and important here. She is. 

 This was her favourite toy until she tore its ear off. Then it was suddenly filth to her. 

We hiked a lot together, I miss that about her. This was in the Tombstones. Rainiest weekend of my life! 

 Pre-ascent pep talk/kiss. More for me. I was scared of the bears... 

I took this when she was sick. She slept a lot in her last days. 

Science needs to invent a device so that we can bring back the dead. Maybe we'd all cry a little less. 

I do know that Jim taught me a lot about the world. She taught me patients, and how to love the unloveable-you just do. She taught me it was okay to wear my heart upon my sleeve, and that getting hurt was just another part of life I hadn't yet come to know. 

Jim came to me in my darkest year and departed when the light came back. I somehow think she was an angel sent to me. After being assaulted I couldn't be alone, so I got her on a whim. I had no idea what I was getting myself into, but decided I needed some sort of protection from everyone/thing. We struggled trying to make things work between us (yes, like a human relationship, we butted heads.) I cried a lot, she ate nearly everything I loved. But in the end I relied on bitter apple spray, and a shorter leash for our walks. Eventually we had become soul mates. I took her everywhere; I preferred walks with Jim over dates with friends, and boys. We'd get in the car after work on Friday and return Sunday evening like it was an obligation to leave the city lights behind us. Though we only had one short year together, and it was a dark valley we walked through, looking back it might have also been the best year of my life. 

I've been told there is one soul that will make you see the world differently, and for me, that was Miss Jimmy-Choo. For whatever reason God put her in my path I cannot thank Him enough. 

Rest peacefully, my love.  

Cody

We've lost a beautiful soul today.

I have never lost a friend to death before - this is a first. I didn't realize exactly how hard it would hit me even though I have had a few days to process it. I realize that grief has the power to paralyze. It can stop you and make you go breathless, and you might never be the same.

Neither have I watched a friend lose their son before. I'm lucky that I have little experience with death, save my grandparents. I cannot imagine the sorrow one must feel.

It's sadness that gets me, that takes my breath away, that stops me in my tracks and makes me look at the sky and wonder: Why?

As a believer, as a person who trusts that there is more to this life than this, I hope and pray that his life is only over here. That somewhere, somehow, he is laughing and dancing and reuniting.

But here?

Here there is hurt. And confusion. And loss.

When death comes, to a loved one, to a parent, we reflect. And we wonder. And deep down, we remember: This gift will not last forever. We don't have to do anything spectacular with it, we just have to recognize it. Be grateful for it. Relish in it.

People are being taken from this world too easily and too quickly.

My friend lost her mom a few weeks ago, and this weekend her son.

I question you, God. I question you.

You've done so much good to me, but not for others. Why?

I neither feel grateful for my own life, nor like the shining light I need to be for her.

It hurts me to be okay, and so happy when she's at the very bottom.

You can do nothing to heal those kinds of wounds.

Dear God, give her strength.

Fragile

One of my really good friend's friend took his life this week.

She describes it as, "I've misplaced my radiance."

No matter what I say or do, I can't ease her pain.

Everything I want to say seems shallow. Or fake.

What can you say? I can only just barely, and rather weakly, blubber out, "I love you, and I am here for you."

It's not enough.

I can't bring him back to her so they can sip wine while they catch-up.

I can't make her stop dissecting their last conversation.

I can't get her to stop thinking that she could have done something to save him - there was nothing she could have done. How could she have known?

I can't keep her eyes free of tears.

"It's been said that beauty never dies as long as it's remembered. A picked flower may wither and die, but as long as your mind can see it as it was; it lives forever."

31 days without Jim.
I can't stop counting days.
Science should discover a way to bring back the dead so we can all stop crying.

Miss Choo

I promised Jim the best rest of her life today. She'll be forever be allowed on the couch and we'll sleep in extra long on the weekends. Maybe I'll even start letting her under the covers. She always wants under, but I always thought it was weird and kinda dirty. I suppose that is why the washing machine was invented, and I can shower. I think I am lucky that I know her clock is ticking. However, I know I am going to be over protective and she will likely suffocate from my clingy-ness, and my constant need to have her around.

The things I am sad about the most:
-She's my number 1. One person to spend the rest of my life with? I choose the dog.
-Her sad face looking out the window when I leave to work each day.
-Jim knows exactly when I need a walk, she knows fresh air is good for my soul.
-I hope they allow dogs who can't fetch into heaven, because we honestly tried to learn, but she is too smart and thinks I am the one that needs to fetch the stupid ball. She also thinks I am retarded for throwing something a great distance if I want it back.
-Jimmy also never learned to love the water. She can swim, but she's like me - a princess.
-The birds will actually come back to the bird feeder, and squirrels might hang out in the trees again.
-My solo weekend adventures will actually become solo. That kills me.
-I won't find dog treat crumbs at the bottom of my jacket pockets.

I have to stop here, I'll cry if I think more about her.

Though, I realize Jim is lucky; so far she's had a great life. She may have spent the first nine months (which is half of her life) in the animal shelter where they allowed her to become a wild, uncontrollable, nearly aggressive dog, but she's really become quiet the opposite. I've spoiled her rotten, and probably loved her too much. She has camped, hiked, snowshoed, snowboarded, fished, laid under stars in what I consider the most beautiful place on earth, and gotten to circled a little old lady and tormented her little dog..opps...that was my fault. ha-ha! She has made a lot of friends, more than me! She's a celebrity in the dog world; it wasn't long ago we walked in the neighbourhood and a group of girls asked me if it was Jewels (her original name,) and they were happy to see her... I am lucky too.

Jimmy Choo

The vet said Jimmy isn't suspected to live much longer. Between a month and a year, but a year would be a gift. Her kidneys are failing. She's not even two years old yet, I've barely had her a year. There is either no God, or I am the present time Job. When I thought things could not get worse, that my bottom was here, I was wrong. At this rate I'll never stop crying.

Rodney,

You were loved by all and will be missed terribly. I'll never forget that time you made me laugh until I cried. You're a funny, wonderful man Rodney. The smile on your face always came so easily. You've endured so much though out your life, too much in fact.

It's always a tragedy when someone is taken from us too soon. A lot of the time I don't understand God's Master Plan; the hows, and whys, and the lessons I am supposed to be learning will always remain a mystery to me. Daily I am reminded of the fragility of life. There is so much I should be doing and saying so that when it's my turn I won't have any regrets, or at least as many as I would have if I went tomorrow.