*** I
can't help but think of the title of this blog – Day to Day Musings
of A Restless Mind. My mind has been very restless lately, with
thoughts coming and going like cars on a highway interchange in LA.
***
Whenever I lose someone I love, I do a lot of mental
processing. I may not say much outwardly, but inside, the wheels are
turning. I'm sure I get this serious look on my face when it
happens. I see myself speaking at their funeral. I imagine all the
things I would say about that person if I was asked to speak. I am
not big on public speaking, but this never really freaked me out,
because I didn't think I would ever be asked to speak. Surely,
someone else would be better suited for that job than I would be.
Not this time. Today, (and I say “today” very loosely, as I have
not yet gone to bed, although it is past midnight, and these events
technically transpired yesterday.) … Today, I gave a tribute to my
friend Abby at her memorial. It was very difficult, but it was also
a great honour.
I realized what that honour represented. It
represented the depth of relationship that I had with Abby. That is
what the real honour was, here. It has the honour of knowing her,
and sharing life with her.
As I
already mentioned, I do a lot of mental processing after a great loss
like this. That being said, I apologize if my thoughts seem entirely
scattered, or even nonsensical. I suppose that is a normal part of
grieving. My mind is being confronted with the truth of this loss,
and it is trying to piece together all of the memories we shared, and
how those memories are all I have of her, now. No person is simple
enough that processing their death is a quick and easy thing, if you
knew them well. People are all multifaceted. They are complex. Of
course, my relationship with Abby is unique, as it is seen from my
personal perspective. Only I know what it was like for me to know
her. There are others who loved her and knew her as well, but they
all had unique experiences with her, as well.
Warning:
Tangent Ahead!
Thinking about all of the people who knew Abby
in similar circles as me, it makes me think of a Venn Diagram. Each
person makes up their own part of their circle, where they intersect
with another person is their personal relationship, and where they
all intersect in the middle represents the commonality of their
collective experiences. Abby and I were in choir together. Singing
together was something that we shared, and something which I found
very special. At her service today, there was singing. Our friend
Anna Grace was sitting in the row in front of me. She asked me to
come stand by her so that we could sing together. Anna Grace was
also in choir with Abby, and we all sang alto together. I stood
beside her, we sang, and as we did, I could hear her voice as it
formed different harmonies. It was beautiful. It reminded me of
Abby. I know that I have a unique and personal relationship with
Anna Grace, as well, but I think it is only natural that we both want
to be near each other right now, as it helps us connect to what is
now a missing part of that Venn Diagram. When we sang together in
the past, Abby was almost always singing with us. Now, when we sing
together, it will always remind us of her. It hurts just a little
bit, but in a beautiful, bitter sweet kind of way.
(End
Tangent.)
Later
in the day, after the service was over, and I had gone home, I was
reminded of something. Years ago, I asked family and friends to
write letters to me for my birthday, and to specifically tell me why
they loved me. I needed to hear it, and it was a bold thing to ask.
I also asked that they all provide me with their addresses, so that I
may write a letter to each of them telling them why I loved them. As
I started thinking about the people who said that they would do this,
I thought of more and more people in my life. I started to write
down names of people who were not a part of my birthday project. I
wrote 50 letters in the span of a few weeks, and then 20 more 2 years
later as new people entered my life.
This week I spent a lot
of time thinking about what I would write for Abby's tribute, and I
found myself thinking of all of her little quirks, all the things
that made her unique, the little things that made her uniquely Abby,
and made me smile at the thought of her. I started to wonder what
little things about me would be shared at my funeral some day. I
don't mean for that to sound morbid at all. It is more of a
curiosity, wondering what memories will stick with people, and what
are the things that make me uniquely me. I'm not about to ask anyone
to write tributes to me, but what I am going to do is write tributes
to some of the key people in my life. I am going to write about how
we met, what stood out to me about them, and various little stories
that have always stuck with me about them. I may do this just for
myself. I may share them with people. I'm not sure yet. All I know
is that what they say is true – you don't really know what you have
until it is gone. I don't want to take for granted the people in my
life. After Abby died, I was so very shocked. I didn't ever think
about the possibility that she could die. It had never crossed my
mind, and then suddenly, it happened. As I held my 10 month old
daughter in my arms later that day, I felt a bit of fear come over
me. I suddenly thought that if Abby could die, anyone could die. My
baby, my husband, my life-long best friend, my parents, my brother.
Nobody was safe. The truth is, nobody has ever been safe. We will
all die someday. But here's the thing - I don't want to live in fear
of death. I want to appreciate the life that is all around me, while
I am still here to do so. I hope this inspires you to do the
same.
Much love,
K
