Today I heard of your death. Adam looked at me, and said 'what happened to her?' and I don't know. I have my own assumptions, but I'm not sure and I hope it was peaceful for you. Unfortunetly, all I see in my head is you kicking and screaming, telling whoever you met up there that you aren't ready to be there. I bet you didn't get to do your makeup or hair, and you have plans with your family. Today, I cried for you. I cried for your family. Your husband, your children and the life you created.
I don't know if it was your demons catching up with you, or some sort of freak accident. I don't know anything. I just know you're gone and I see all over social media that it's true and no one can wrap their head around it.
We didn't meet until we were adults already. I think I was 18 and you must have been 22-23. I looked up to you in a big sister type of way. I watched you grow from a young married girl, to a wife, and I watched you bloom into a mother. I remember taking pictures of her when she finally came. She looks exactly like her dad, she still does. But, the love I saw in your eyes for her was one that I didn't think I'd ever see for you. You didn't want to be the mom type. You never wanted a mini van, or a house full of kids (at least that I knew of during our early 20's). But, once I saw you with her- I knew you were meant to do this job. You drove that mini van, you mommed hard.
I remember seeing you and your husband at Knox's funeral. Outside the front door of Purdy & Walters, the funeral home. I remember you telling me how sorry you were that he was gone and that you didn't even know what to say. It was honest, and it was the truth, because you guys were people we had gotten close to during that part of our lives. You had your hair down, styled perfectly and you looked so uncomfortable. Your eyebrows and lipstick were perfect, but you didn't know how to handle the overload of emotions. I know it was because you didn't know what to say or do. So you stood silently with me, while I watched the world moving in a blur around me. You handed me a smoke when I wanted it, even if I didn't 'need' it.
When we lived in Marysville the first time, on the reservation. It ended up being not too far from your dad's house. We would walk, and talk and just chat. Both of us needed a friend and it just worked at the time. Pushing Zoe up and down that road. Talking while we looked at the water in the summer of 2010.
I'm not one to claim we were best friends. We had our moments where we got to know each other, and we drifted apart too. But, I knew if I needed something I could call you. We would randomly reach out to each other when when we saw something that reminded one of us of the other.
Tonight, I will hold my girls closer. I let them stay up late. I'm up late nyself blogging in a place no one reads because I can't get you out of my head.
Dude, we're in our 30's, it shouldn't be our time to go yet. With tears streaming down my face I feel another reminder that life is so precious. It can be cut short in a moment. We will never be able to see if our kids or families know how much we love them.
I love you, friend. I'm thankful I got to know you and witness some awesome parts of your life. I'm thankful for you being in important parts of mine. From the most unknown part of my heart; I'm so sorry for not reaching out and making sure you were okay. I'm sorry for assuming that you had the help and support you needed. I know your family loves you so much, but love can't stop death.
Tuesday, February 27, 2018
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