Tuesday, January 18, 2011

v. To feel the lack or loss of.

You know what sucks? I still miss her. I still wish I could go two years back in time and call her. Meet her for lunch.

I think this would be so much easier if I hated her.

I know people who hate her. And people who don’t understand why I don’t. I don’t understand it either.

Make no mistake. I am not in denial about what happened. It is horrible. Some people call it evil, but I don’t know what that word means anymore. I don’t believe, as some do, that this was the devil working through her. I believe it has more to do with brain chemistry and short circuited, crossed wires. Nightmares, memories and fears.

And I will not, cannot, be her friend again. Obviously, she cannot be anywhere near my children. And when they are grown? If she serves her time and is an old woman? Will she be released someday? Will I have grandchildren by then? She won't be present in my life again. And that makes me so sad.

Ms. Moon wrote the other day about women and her stage role in Steel Magnolias. It made me cry because the list of women I have that kind of relationship with (in the physical, non-blog world) is a short one. And there is one less person on it now than there used to be.

I was looking for something in some old emails and ran across something that Lori wrote that ties in quite perfectly with those scenes in Steel Magnolias. It seems incredibly personal to post this here now, but it's part of what I want to do. To remember Lori as a whole person. Not just a monster.

Got my hair cut today. Love my hairdresser. She was coloring another woman while I was there being cut, and we were all alone in her garage, and boy did we cackle like old hens; prozac, sex machines, old boyfriends, kids, and just general bitchery were had all around. It was like hitting the fricking bar after work, before 9 a.m. this morning. Wow. These are the highlights of my life.

She wrote that to me two months before her arrest. In that same email she also talked about needing to go to yoga and why I shouldn't take a class that semester (I had specifically emailed her to talk me out of it, I was tempted to, but knew it would be too much).

It's funny, I had somehow trained myself as a kid and young adult to not miss people. If someone was out of my life, they were out. Forgotten. I couldn't control the fact that my dad wasn't in my life, but I could refuse to pine for him.

But the end of this friendship has broken the flood gates and the missing is all over the place.

6 comments:

Ms. Moon said...

I completely understand this and am honored you mentioned me in this context.

Mwa said...

It's only human that you miss your friend. You didn't know what was going to happen when you made your history together.

SJ said...

I would be heartbroken in the worst way if my good friend was in this situation. I really, really feel for you.

michelle said...

no words
just a hurt in my heart

xoxoxo

May said...

Oh Steph, that last line just broke my heart. Why is it that new pain just opens up all the old ones? I am thinking about you and holding you in my heart.

Petit fleur said...

Hey Steph,

It's good you are honoring yourself by working through your grief as fully as you can. Whenever someone leaves our lives for whatever reason, we grieve. I imagine it's not something you have a lot of time to ponder with the chaos that is the life of a working mom and partner.

I also think that it's great that you are giving us a glimpse of her personality and humanity... and how it is that you connected with her.

Your doing good work, even if it feels crappy.
Much love,
pf