It’s crazy when you lose someone and look back on the history of your relationship. When was it that we actually met in person? You read my blog forever but what was the date you finally called me at work? Immediately you became one of my favorite volunteers – always available and always a hard worker. But when was it that I first invited you to my home as my friend? Glory and I knew you rather well by the time you met Cristy and some of my other friends. When? …
Your amazing spirit left this earth late last Tuesday. Everyone I know spent the day celebrating the holiday with people they love. BBQ’s. Fireworks. The last round of firecrackers on our street stopped at 11:35pm. I was grouchy about it. I kept looking at the clock – listening to my scared dog – not having any idea you had snuck away during all the hype.
When the phone rang, I almost didn’t answer. It was late. It had been exactly 30 minutes since that last boom outside. Why would you be calling me? But it wasn’t you. & in all the confusion – in all the panic, I misunderstood what she was saying. Or I just skipped over the words and wanted to fix it – somehow help before those words were actually fact. For sure. Forever. She simply said, “Heidi died tonight”.
Why? You were good. I hadn’t seen you since dinner before San Diego but we talked and you seemed good. You started dating a few weeks ago and your face was happy. I just don’t understand and it will never make sense. & now that it’s too late, your friends long to just check in – to just go back in time and be sure that you’re healthy and making good choices.
I hope you know I was proud of you – and proud to know you. I hope you know that your happiness meant more to us than whatever shame you ever felt. I hope you know that every time you called for help, I felt needed and loved by you. Being your friend, selfishly, fed my soul. I hope you know, most of all, that you are loved. Having you here lit up our house. – Having you anywhere. Your voice, your laugh. Cristy would love to hear you say, “I wanna be like Cristy when I grow up” about 7000 more times. I hope you know that our dinner group (minus you) will never be the same and we have all vowed to live forever in your honor.
As I’ve thought of you today, I’ve been sad. Sad for me. Sad for Kady & your family. But mostly sad for you. When I think about it being me instead, I think about kicking my way back here. I imagine floating in to heaven and seeing so many people I’ve missed for so long. I imagine the love, the absence of pain, the beauty, the fragrence, the music… But then I remember that Glory is here and my heart starts racing. How would I get back? How would I kick through the air like a race for my life? One of our first very serious conversations was about your daughter – your love for her. I know you kicked as hard as you could. I know there’s nothing you wouldn’t do to be right back here.
But someone wanted you more. “Dear Lord Baby Jesus” (as you loved to say) faught harder for you than me, than you, than all of those who love you so much. Rest in peace, my sweet friend. I will find a tear any time someone calls me sunshine or any time I see I sun flower as big as your face.
I love you.