Friday, February 29, 2008


It worked.  It worked.  Now if I can only get rid of the stupid "sent from my..." yada yada yada tagline.   

That said, I almost feel as if I should explain, or apologize or something, for being so silly and lighthearted in these last posts when in my last regular post I was in sorrow, missing Cary.  I know I don't HAVE to explain and there is really nothing to apologize for but I'm still in the place where I feel almost guilty for being happy or for seeming to forget.  I hope someday to crawl out of this dark place and I have my moments (i.e. my last two silly posts), but sometimes the contradiction between what I feel and what I do strikes me in such a way that I have to mention it.  Call it Catholic guilt.  Call it mourning.  Call it whatever.  I just thought that after being so light-hearted I should mention that I still miss Cary terribly.  That I still have yet to go a day when I don't feel that loss.  That I still can't see the place where thinking about her doesn't hurt.  I'm not alone in this, that I know.  But sometimes I get angry when other people try to equate their grief with mine.  It sounds bitchy, I know, but Cary & I had a special friendship, and even though others miss her too, I don't think they really get the loss I've experienced.  They may have lost a friend they spoke to once a month or so.  I lost someone who was a part of my everyday life.   I know its unfair and perhaps inappropriate to belittle one grief or to compare one to another, but I can't help it.  Sometimes I just want to yell "YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW BAD IT HURTS."  Except with one person - Cary's sister (who we'll call Mary).  I often feel that my grief must pale in comparison to hers.  They weren't just friends or just sisters.  They were both.  And it all just sucks.  But I have gained one thing -- and that is a friendship with Mary.  We've been each others rocks.  Although sometime I wonder if we aren't helping each other through our grief so much as helping each other avoid it. 

In any case, back to my original point, I hope no one equates my lightheartedness with forgetfulness.  I haven't forgotten.  And I don't think I ever will.
Ok. So I'm behind the times. But I just learned I can blog from my crackberry. How cool is that? I might actually post on a regular basis if I can do it anywhere. No promises of course. And hopefully this will work.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Friday, February 15, 2008

The Holiday of Life

Tonight, at a little local bar, some 30 or so folks who've known each other for more years than we care to admit, will join together to celebrate life and friendship and the fact that we are all, mostly, healthy. A group of 5 or 6 of these folks created this celebration in 1986. Then, it was celebrated on Feb. 19 no matter what day the 19th fell on. Then, it was an excuse to skip school and party. Then, it was held at someone's home. And then, it involved only a handful of folks.

This Holiday of Life, as we termed it, was celebrated with vigor for several years and then, real life happened, and the celebrating ceased. College and marriages and children got in the way and The Holiday faded away. Every so often, someone would mention The Holiday, but we never quite got around to making it happen. Life, it seemed, was too busy. Too crowded. Too overwhelming perhaps.

But now we've decided to bring back this most revered of made-up holidays because we needed reminding of how quick and fleeting life can be. How special good friends are. And how you may never get another chance to celebrate. We'd forgotten this in our race through adulthood. But we re-learned it all. And they were very rough lessons to learn -- taught instantaneously when my oldest and dearest friend in all the world passed from this life on December 14 after a very tough yet very brief battle with cervical cancer. I've lived life in a bit of a haze since that awful morning when my phone rang while I was driving to work. The haze is now lifting, but some days are still very cloudy.

But today is beautiful. Today, I will celebrate life. I will celebrate friendship. I will toss adulthood out the window and live in the moment like a child for tomorrow may be dark once again, and I'm preparing myself for a rough storm on the 19th (not only the original Holiday of Life, but Cary's birthday as well). But for one night I will try to forget my sadness and remember what it is to be free. For one night I will remember my friend without sadness.

Tonight I celebrate the Holiday of Life.

And if you happen to read this, don't think it strange, but I welcome you to share the Holiday and pass it along. You need not be part of my circle to celebrate life. Celebrate your own life, your own friends, your own memories. Because life is fleeting whether you grew up with the Holiday or not.