Lesson of a Lifetime

I feel this change happening in my heart that is truly indefinable but for some reason this logical head of mine really feels the compulsion to define it.  I haven’t been the same since Carri died. What am I saying? I haven’t been the same since I’ve known her. Everything about our friendship and all our conversations whether verbal or written have transformed the person I used to be.  Now, I’m finding the exact opposite is true as well…the lack of her presence, the lack of conversation is also transforming the person I am becoming.  How is it this one person had the power to change me and my life?  I think the answer is as simple as it is complex.  LOVE.

She is the first person outside my own family that I ever loved. She is the first person outside my own family to ever love me.  It is taken for granted that our family has to love us.  For everyone else, love is an optional thing and often transient. So, it took a long time for me to trust that her love was real, that we really were kindred spirits or soul sisters. In that time we both made mistakes and hurt each other’s feelings as we tested the strength of our bond.

She taught me to open my eyes to realities I had often ignored and showed me how to open myself up to the Universe and understand that I was both a tiny part of it and at the same time I was a significant piece of it.

Without her here to talk to I thought I was losing my mind.  At first, I pretended to myself that she was just too busy to call. That delusion only got me through a couple of weeks. As the months dragged on I found myself spending my days pacing from room to room looking for something I couldn’t name but which was holding me hostage feeling the ever present squeezing of the air from my lungs as I fought against the acceptance of this new life without my best friend, my confidante, the only person who knew my stories and loved me anyway. 20 years of friendship just…over. As difficult as that was, it was the fact that 33 short years of her life were over, that she simply was no more, that I found myself struggling with bitterness about. 

There was a blackness, a hatred, a blame-game trying to point the finger at any one person or thing that could have let this happen.  It started to consume me as I researched her doctors online and stalked the so-called “Healers” websites looking for anything malicious or malevolent hidden in their herbal supplements or strange machines. I scoured the complaints listed with the Better Business Bureau and checked Blogs that mentioned any of the same people or places she had contact with during her two year battle.  I just knew that if I could figure out who was responsible for this I would feel better.

Because I HAD to start feeling better.  I knew this couldn’t last forever and I was trying to accelerate the process (I thought).

It didn’t work.  It didn’t help. In fact, it was made worse by the single-minded focus I was holding onto.  So, I stopped. Stopped looking, stopped blaming.  Then something wonderful happened.  I started to run…something that Carri had always loved doing and something I had long despised. I was always last picked in gym class. I hated the burning of my lungs and the gasping for breath that always started after just a few minutes exertion.  But I had already been feeling that way for months as a sat in front of the computer, inwardly running from the pain of losing her, so I didn’t think it could get any worse.  I hopped on the treadmill and started to walk. Within a few minutes, instead of the usual panting and boredom a surge of energy came through me and I took off running! I could hear her in my head clapping and cheering me on and telling me to run through the pain.  For the first time in months, I could finally hear her voice and feel her presence.  I ran a mile that day, something I’d never done in my life without stopping to walk.

In life, Carri had always pushed  me to go out of my comfort zone and try new things.  I was a chronic worrier and my fears often left me living vicariously through her as she attempted challenge after new challenge.  She couldn’t understand why I was afraid to drive my car down roads I’d never travelled before or why I sometimes needed medication for the depression I’d battled since I was 19.  She said I held onto my worries and fears like they were beloved Pets that were crowding me out of my own life.

After I started running, the weight started to fall off and it wasn’t just the excess pounds my body had been carting around, it was the weight of my fears.  I found myself doing new things without apprehension and without thinking and planning.  I started exploring my community and talking to new people. I joined a church.  Spirituality was very important to Carri and even though she and I differed vastly in our beliefs I know she would be proud of me.  I started looking for the passion I used to have for writing accepting that I will never write the Great American Novel but also believing, for the first time, that what I have to say is important enough to be heard and this is the forum God has made abundantly clear to me that I am to use.

I still would rather have her here than not.  I know these changes I’ve made would have happened with her here  but they would have happened at a much slower pace.  It’s a journey I wish we could have taken together. I’m still amazed at how much I’m learning from the lessons she tried to teach me before she left this earth and the lessons only her death could have taught me. 

I am alive.

It’s time to start living.

Thank you my friend.