Remember Me

“You will lose someone you can’t live without,and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp.”  ~Anne Lamott

I first met her in a little primary Sunday school class. I was the new kid from Florida and in a Kansas town that merited being the center of attention; at least for the first day. Unlike me, she loved attention, and quickly determined to make me and my sisters her friends.

I don’t remember what drew me to her first. Her red hair and personality were equally fiery. I do know that I was enthralled to find someone with more freckles than me.

We really had little in common. I was the oldest of three girls, quiet and serious, often with my nose in a book.  She an only child (well the only child still at home), admittingly spoiled and used to getting her way. She loved parties, singing and chatting.

We were an unlikely pair, but we both had freckles and the same birthday month, so of course we just had to be friends. And that’s a big deal when you’re nine you know.

The next six years probably flew by to our parents, but to us, it seemed forever. We shared fun times, secrets and dreams...those years where we went from little girl to young woman. We watched each other grow not just outwardly, but on the inside as well.

So many memories I could share. And over time I shall. 

But while creating those memories never in a million years did we imagine this ending. Never did we realize as we were growing up together we were also growing apart.

Over the years she and I always lived within an hour of each other, yet busyness and the cares of life caused us to appear oceans apart. Now we are world’s apart and as the reminder of her death begins to sting again I ask those dreaded “What if’s?” and “Why’s?”

Regret is tortuous, guilt can maim…so instead I must lay it all at my creator’s feet and trust the silence, knowing in his time answers may come. And if not, he himself is always the answer, forever our comforter.

Tonight was her memorial service. I expected some sort of closure but none came. In fact the service was extra short and it seemed everyone was to afraid to speak. I wanted to scream. Wanted to yell at everyone. Why isn’t anyone telling her story? Why isn’t anyone singing her song? Why? Why? Why?

Yet nothing. There had to be something…something more than the tears around me. Something more than this deafening, uncomfortable silence. Then a finger pointed back at me…reminding me that I too did nothing but sit. I who had shared so many childhood memories also did nothing but stare. Waiting for another to say what I would not, or could not.

"No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.”  ~C.S. Lewis

Oh how I wish I had been brave enough to speak tonight. For there were so many stories for me and others to share...but there I sat...shocked, dumbfounded, confused. Still not really believing any of this.

No relationship is perfect, all come with some element of pain...Yes I do regret that we lost touch over the years and wonder why our paths diverged. But I'm thankful for those early years shared, the memories that will always be a part of me.

Not sure why most of us chose not to speak at the service, part of mine was no doubt fear. But I now believe that the silence probably said more than any of us could have.

The more I thought about that awkward silence the more I heard her speak to me.  Life is more than a party. One day the music, the voices, the laughter will be gone. One day the lights go out and you are left alone.

What happens then?

And as I listen to one of the songs played at her memorial service..."When I Call On Jesus"...I am reminded that there is more to this life.

We can get so busy living that dying doesn’t cross our mind. Not until it happens to someone close. Someone who is part of who we are. Part of our history. Part of our heart. And it is with this death of my childhood friend, that another part of me died this month. But it is also with this death that I felt a sort of rebirth.

photo credit

Hope. New beginnings. A chance to make things right with those I still have near. A chance to draw closer to my creator, my savior and dearest friend. Another chance to fulfill the purpose he planned for me.

None of us are promised tomorrow. No matter health, age, or circumstance. With the loss of this friend I am reminded to live intentionally, to live each day as if it were my last, and to treat those around me as if it may be theirs.   

If you were going to die soon and had only one phone call you could make, who would you call and what would you say? And why are you waiting? ~Stephen Levine