October is here and a year has passed.
I remember the last day I saw you like it was yesterday.
It was as perfect a day as could ever be.
Ohio on a glorious fall day at the peak of reds and yellows,
oranges and golds, all dripping like jewels from the trees in a final blaze of glory
before falling to the ground to their extinction.
You were frail but bright and glorious too-
sporting a crew cut- definitely a chic new look for you.
Around your neck was arrayed an accessory I had never seen before- a handbag (certainly not Coach!) dispensing drugs into a port in your spine.
How quickly life passes from normal (“Does this dress look good with these shoes?”)
To the land of the macabre: chemo, scans, needles, sickness……pain.
Childhood friends at the end of a life long journey
brought to a screeching halt by a nasty and unwelcome interloper.
One already on board a ship heading across an unknown sea.
The other, standing on the dock reluctant to let the ship’s sails out of her sight.
We laid on your big brass bed- the one with the handmade quilt shared
with your big lazy Lab who hogged more than his share of the covers.
We talked and laughed and cried, and you made me talk about “after”
After you were gone from sight.
After your ship was docked and the final destination reached.
We talked about this placed called heaven.
What do you suppose it’s really like?
The truth is no one knows for sure,
but we agreed that Jeni’s Splendid Ice Cream would certainly be involved
and there would be no mosquitos.
The other particulars would have to wait to be known.
You picked the song I would sing at your funeral and asked me to me sing it to you.
Then you smiled- that glorious, radiant, mega watt smile.
You said you were tired, and I promised to come back if you promised to live just a little longer.
But as I left your room with the pom pom curtains gently blowing in the breeze, I knew I wouldn’t see you on this side of life ever again…..
How did I get to the airport? I can’t remember.
I don’t remember a single detail of that drive.
When I returned 3 weeks later Ohio would be dull and gray,
cold and forbidding- just like the world without your laughter.
But I would sing the song you chose for your funeral.
And I would save my weeping until it was over…….
A year has gone by and somehow it doesn’t seem to matter at all.
I still cry when I see old fashioned grandmothers’ flower garden wall paper,
or run across one of your old emails,
or see your daughter smiling your smile from her Facebook page.
Sometimes I swear I can still hear the ring of your laughter in my ears.
I often think I would sell my very soul to the devil to hear that laugh just one more time.
And then I remind myself- I will again. Someday.
Probably sooner than I am able to even comprehend.
We each of us think we have all the time in the world.
Until the day we realize we don’t.
It’s all just a grand illusion, but some of us have come face to face with that reality,
while others of you out there are still whistling in the dark.
I remember Jen.
Wife. Mother. Daughter. Sister. Super friend extrodinaire.
Lover of cats and dogs. Writing. Humor. Books. Funky jewelry.
Lover of Life, her family, and God most of all.
I remember the “evil twin” who could make me laugh till tears poured an endless trail.
I will be looking for her amidst the crowd of people one day on the other side of the River Jordan, gathered to greet me as I am called from this life.
I will follow the sound of raucous laughter until I find her.
She can guide me thru the rest of the crossing.
There will no doubt be humor and ice cream involved in the travel plans.
I remember Jen. And she will remember me.