A friend of mine died a couple of days ago. I would say that I lost a friend but the truth is I lost her a long time ago. She was, in my childhood, my only friend. I had neighborhood friends but their friendship was conditional on whether there was someone more interesting to play with. She in contrast, was always there when I called, she was always up for a bike ride, or an adventure. She was the one with me when I climbed the tree at the virtual brink of the falls and agonized with me as to the more acceptable option, going over the falls or calling for help and risking the wrath of the Moms. We survived summer after summer until adult life placed too many strains on our childhood friendship and we fell apart. The few times our paths crossed after that she was so supremely sad beneath her jovial facade I couldn't stand to see her. We couldn't talk about the elephant in the room even before I understood the true nature of the beast. Much later I found out that she was gay. I imagine there was a lot of agony associated with her reconciliation of her sexual identity with her religious upbringing and her bigoted father. I like her Dad but he was not tolerant of the myriad of humanity. The world was black and white and she was courting gray. For a while she struggled almost drowning in alcohol and then she found her soul mate. I don't pretend to have known the woman my friend became, or the woman that she came to love. All I know is she had someone to love, someone to travel this existence with to the end of her life and that makes me happy for her.

She succumbed to MS after being held onto long past her ability to live. I understand, one clings to the moments of clarity between the dark empty hours watching the fetal shape beneath the blankets.

They took the feeding tube out in May and let her go. Science is such a double edged sword. It can deliver such wonders but it can also take on too much. Holding onto the dead at the end of life and sometime at the beginning. So many tiny little humans suffer needlessly because we hope for more than we can deliver. So hard to let go, no matter how long we have been here, a moment, several decades or a century.

My father and I land on religion as a topic more than I would like. He is a man of faith and I am a woman of science. While our actions in life are similar our reasons for the actions well from different springs. He believes that faith makes dying easier and he is probably right, however lack of faith makes me viscerally aware of the value of life, the uniqueness of every single moment. With nothing to go on when it comes to what, if anything, comes next I am forced to treasure every minute.

I remember reading somewhere, (or maybe hearing in a lecture from a friend, I am not sure), a story about a man falling off a cliff and on the way down he grabs at the wall and comes back with a strawberry in his hand. When he puts it in his mouth it is the sweetest thing he has ever tasted. The reality of his imminent death made him aware of the sweetness of life in a way that nothing else could. People who know they are dying often tell of having a different perspective on life. They even complain, "why is it you don't really appreciate life until you are dying". Youth is wasted on the young and life is wasted on the living. Faith makes it easier to forget about death. It may make dying easier but it also makes living less poignant.

I must come to terms with this life with open eyes and a kindness for myself as well as those around me. My kind and loving friend spanked me resoundingly (and rightfully) for my little tantrum yesterday. I feel more than I express about my friend, my life My Darling and my son. Sometimes they run away with me, those feelings, and my quest is to come to a place where the emotions can wash over me rather than carry me away. I don't want to be numb anymore, I don't long for emotional death. I just want to feel without getting buffeted so much. I know there must be rain but I am tired of the typhoons, gimme a little sun shower for a change. I live with love in my life and that alone makes me grateful.

In Memory of my friend Amy (1960-2010) with whom I shared a love of books, bikes and all things wild in childhood.

I wish you Peace

~alison~

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