Well here I am in the guilt chair and you are leaving us…even though I can’t wrap my head around that…that someone with your fire and resilience could be taken by a damn tumor…but your labored breathing spoke volumes to my heart today.
I held—oops, I just typed, “healed” by accident…but there are no accidents are there? It was healing for me because I know you forgive me for not being around lately. I held your hand for about ten minutes. Those ten minutes meant the world to me.
Your face lit up watching “That’s Entertainment” even though you’ve watched it no less than ten times in the past few days. You read aloud, “Overture” in your eloquent accent when it appeared over the crimson red curtains as if it was the first time you’d seen that word.
Funny thing about brain cancer—apparently you forget all the bullshit--and only see the happy and the love and light in everything. The teal green nail polish in Cosmo made you smile—no less than five times. When we decided the hideous beige espadrilles were not for you, you smiled anyway. And when I pointed out the man with the photo-shopped abs, you stared at him in wonder, then chuckled.
I asked you if you wanted to color. All I could manage was a happy face. You then drew an even happier face with a plum purple crayon, retracing the smile--back and forth until it stretched high above the eyes.
I so hope you’re not in pain. One would never know by your smile that warms like a campfire. I know you’d much rather tell us all to “fak off” with all this attention, but we love you and we shant.
Thank you for all the good company--thank you for all the good laughs—thank you for lending an ear many a day—especially when a certain jerk was a certain jerk.
Thank you for all the extraordinary pool days—in your perfect-solar-heated-pool, complete with extra high foliage that allowed me to go topless without a second guess and be inspired by the youth of your bum. All those hikes paid off my dear and I shall see you on the trail. You will laugh at me for running in the crazy valley heat and I will take note of your big floppy hat that I should be donning.
I got it. I got the lesson. Even though I was sure I was chock-full of lessons for the time being—there are so many more to learn. I guess that’s why we’re here--to learn life lessons.
I’m sorry that I didn’t heed your email and swing by for a drink the day I received it. Boy have I missed our little routine that saved my sanity many times over the past eight years. I justified it because I’ve been trying to cut back on vodka o’clock…and wine o’clock…and the five o’clock somewhere go-to excuse. But there is no excuse for having more ego than will power—and I know I don’t have to say anymore…
I will cherish our time together—there are no mistakes that we ended up living within a few miles of each other. Thank you for being a dear friend and thank you for your wicked sense of humor that always followed with a one-of-a-kind girlie giggle.
I got it. I got the lesson. When a friend says, “Swing by for a drink,” then follows it with, “Life’s too short,” I will take note. So, thank you for that.
You held my hand so tightly today, I knew you were saying goodbye. When I asked you if you were happy you replied, “Yes,” with a smile.
Please come round once in a while and let me know when it’s vodka o’clock and we’ll toast to you and your shining smile.
You gave your heart for another week—smiling all the while. Rest in Peace dear Ro. XO