#262....and then, blammo!...it hits me...

you know, I was just thinking that darn poem below will haunt me until the day I die, and in fact, now I know it will -

I wrote "A Trip to the Light" back in 2001, and ever since I keep reworking it..remolding it..I've taken lines out,  put lines in, restructured and repainted it so many times now, that I've lost track - even today, again, I did this...

(re-reading it)... tonight, it sits okay with me, but it probably won't tomorrow -

at least now I know why. (laughing, okay michele!..i get it!)

Let me give you a little background...that poem, along with a few others, was totally inspired by truly, my best friend, Michele, who died about 3 years ago, of breast cancer...she was 38.  I wrote it a day or two after she had died. I tried to imagine, to feel, where she was in those moments, those hours, right after death extended a hand for her..

Now, let me tell you a little about Michele (because she would just love this).

She left behind two very young children, Max and Madison. She loved her children enormously. She was a good, no, a great mother. She loved her husband, even when he was not, by all standards, deserving of her love.  She loved living and she lived life to the fullest.  She was wild, in all the good ways.  She lived large, and loud, and with intent.  She was avid. She loved music, and shopping, and shoes. She had the best, most dirty, laugh.  She made me smile.  She was loyal. She was my Lucy, I was her Ethel.

She's been on my mind alot this past week...more-so than normal...

I miss her, still.  (as of course, I knew I would.)

Anyway...one weekend, even though she was very sick, we went away together, to get all of the last, most necessary things in order.  We stayed near the ocean, and walked...(well, okay I pushed her along in a wheelchair) along the boardwalk. 

We talked, and ate, and shopped for small gifts for the kids - to then wrap up with notes and put away for special occasions - for all the occasions she wouldn't be there for them.... special birthdays, christmas, and all the"firsts" - first days of school, first dates, first kisses, first driver's licenses, graduations, weddings..and also for days when....they would just need a hug, a word, a surprise, from their mom. We bought a few important gifts, but the best ones (to me, anyway) were the most simple ones - a piece of gum, wrapped with a few lines of encouragement...a trinket...a letter...a picture...

We lit candles, opened a bottle of wine and even smoked a few cigs...just to be bold and "bad" in the face of cancer. We ate dinner and spent a good bit of the night talking...sometimes crying, sometimes laughing, sometimes hugging.  Her biggest fear?....that somehow she would be forgotten. (an impossibility)

 We listened to the sounds of the ocean and breathed deep the damp salty air.  We sat on the balcony in a blanket, shivering, quiet, and looked at the stars.  When she napped, I studied her. When we slept, I held her. We remembered old times, and made new promises....and this was one of them.

this, being - finding a way to haunt me...to let me know she's there - from the other side...for if anyone could do it - she could.

and look, now she has.

and I am not at all surprised.

(psst..michele...say hi to my mom for me...)