I woke up this morning to blue English skies and a sun shining. Before even a morning stretch, I felt everything sink with one sigh.
Yesterday, Thanksgiving Day, I learned that one of my life's very best friends lost his mother--a woman I also love(d) dearly.
Ellen died on Wednesday. I had seen her and Tim only last month, the day of the Alma College Homecoming. We went to eat and I could see then that time was thin. I had also spent an afternoon with her this past March--convinced now that the only reason I had that job interview (the one that made me fly back to the States) was so I could spend that time with her. It was a brilliant afternoon of which I listened for hours to stories--of her, her family, and of course, her son, my friend, and his indomitable love of math even by the age of seven.
Last night, I spent the evening figuring if I could return again--less than two weeks since I have only just returned this side of the Atlantic. My passport, actually hanging by a thread, the holiday... everything... meant that no, I can't go. The embassy cannot help me. I can't go and hug my friend and support that community I was weaved into for so many years. So now, I sit... yoga training in heart... and send bounties of energy and love--cascading across the Atlantic. At the moment, it doesn't quite feel like enough... but it will have to be... somehow.
I still cannot fully comprehend all this means... simple things like phone calls with her no longer exist in this plane. The photo of Tim and I in drag (him an ugly woman with a beard and trashy lipstick, myself a newsboy with a fake black eye) no longer sits on her desk at the Alma College Registrar's Office. What this means for my friend, his family, is more devastating. What this means for their holidays, their every day is devastating.
When my own father died, what hurt me most was seeing my grandfather... the pain at eighty-two of losing a son. I think for many of us, myself included, hurt me--fine; hurt my friend--not at all fine. Of course, there is no intent or malice in the scenario here... but the pain of my friend is palpable. It beats in my heart and I feel helpless. My mind repeats like a record that this is the way of things. This is the rhythm of life... but something about that lacks comfort in this moment.
I am grateful this day and all days for her life and that I had the privilege of knowing it... and I am grateful today and all days for the life she brought forth in my beautiful friend. Now, it seems, perhaps this gratitude will be what carries through... winds over the Earth. My love.
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