And to begin

So the truth must be said. Something profound changed me and I have been slowly coming to terms with it in the past year. It has been putting my writing on hold and, I think, my life as well. I never realized how one person, only known for such a short time, could make such an impact. It's been a year, and though I am far from the only one healing, I am quite surprised on how hard the healing process as been.

I started my life moving moving two weeks after I was born, and it hasn't slowed down since. At least it's not I
in a laundry basket anymore. With the all the moving and galloping around the globe, I have learned to meet new people, make some friends and enjoy where I was planted at the time. It's very rare that a friendships stays with me when I move on. I can count those friends on one hand, and they are friends so dear to me. I have also lost friends who are spreading their wings and flying wherever they please. As a matter of fact, I was going to write about how my birthday usually falls on Memorial Day. I started realizing that I was celebrating my birthday by remembering my friends who have moved on to greener pastures. I began to love this time. The warm memories making me smile, and the my heart feeling full. Then it happened, another friend takes the final dive, and my heart just broke. I was truly struck by how much of an impact her passing had.

She was a quiet person, who when she felt comfortable around you, kept you rolling in the aisles from her very sarcastic humor. She generally kept to herself, and as I do the same thing, we really didn't see much of each other the first year we knew each other. Our daughters became best friends, and slowly we both came out of our shells. I was blessed to take a trip with her and two other friends to Poland one weekend. That's when I truly got to know her. What a woman! She could make you laugh and cry within the same five minutes. It generally takes me a long time to truly connect to people, and with her, and it was no exception. However, when that time came, I was ever so grateful. I would be on vacation, then all of a sudden, there was would be an email from her asking how it was going, and if the cherry red van was doing well. She always commented on that van. No idea why. As our friendship grew, then phone calls just to say hi, and if I had any gossip, knowing I never had any. She liked her soaps, and I liked my old shows. We both liked to eat and shop, though she could not understand how I could not make meatloaf. She was a terrific cook. We both went crazy if our houses weren't clean. She always had a bowl of candy in her hallway. I only found out after my daughter fessed up. I hardly have candy in my house. She loved fresh flowers. I tend to kill any kind of botany. Our Polish Queen. We both loved our wine.

Then she got sick. I only really knew her for a year. One year out of 38. Such a minuscule amount of time. She got sick and never really recovered. She thought she would finally die from eating to much McDonalds,, not from what seemed to be perfectly healthy lungs. She tried, we hoped, but in the end, it was too strong. I beautiful person is now a glorious angel.

I remember getting the news. We were moving from Kansas to Colorado, and had a great day with my family at the Cosmosphere. About to put the kids to bed and check Facebook. There it was. I think I made some phone calls to confirm, I don't remember. I remember one phone call I had to make, it was the hardest one I ever made. I remember a good friend doing the same for me when one of our friends was killed. I was not going to let the the third amigo know from reading it on posts. I hated making this call as I knew it was in the middle of the night and I knew she would not be able to go back to sleep. We both just cried and hung up. I cried all the way on the long stretch of I 70. I know she cried all day as well. Neither of us could make it to her funeral. Probably her closest friends while In Germany, and neither of us could be there. All I could do was make a toast in the sunset and say good-by. I felt so much guilt after that for not being able to say goodbye and being there for her funeral. After that, I couldn't write anymore. Though, she would probably hit me over the head for it.

So here it goes. The healing has begun and the guilt is slowly receding. Our daughters still talk, and we even got to see her kids this summer. I miss her, and I always will, but life must continue on. Her family is extremely strong, and I am amazed how how much they have grown and healed.

As for me, I am truly blessed that she called me her friend. I'll catch you later, Pal.
Ps- we traded in the red van, and I was sad to see it go, only because her her. Maybe she would like my shiny blue van.

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