|Ms. Vee on Eyes wide open|
|Becca Bear on Eyes wide open|
|Ms. Vee on Eyes wide open|
|Holistic Wayfarer on Be a better you|
|Becca Bear on Be a better you|
The cat’s pajamas
I suppose I won’t see you for a while, so farewell, best of luck, avoid roasted cabbage, don’t eat earwax, and look on the bright side of life!
I walked in the room with my mom to say my farewells. After all, we waited for months in that waiting room. Every other day after school, more if I could convince my mom we needed to be there. They wouldn’t let me go in alone.
I was only in there one other time and I don’t think she could understand what I was saying, even if she could hear me.
Covered in bruises and scrapes, pale but still holding on.
I tried to tell her we were all waiting for her to wake up. About everyone in the waiting room, everyone at school, all the girls we danced with growing up.
I couldn’t stop crying. They told me to be strong for her, but how could I? How could I wake every morning since the accident and not fear the worst after seeing what that van did to her small, petit frame.
As I sat there staring at her the second time, I just wanted her to read all the notes I put in her locker, every day while we all waited. I thought it would help her stay strong enough to wake up. All I would do in class is write her letters. I convinced all my friends to write her letters too, wishing her a speedy recovery. Most of them did.
I had a friend on my bus ask me one day,
“What happens if she doesn’t wake up?”
My only response was,
“She will. She can’t leave me yet.”
And when I sat there staring at my best friend who would never speak our made up language and make silly dance routines to our favorite songs again, all I could say was:
“I miss you.”
And when the weeks proceeded I stared at the empty, oddly shaped vessel whose face was painted on to look like her, all I could say was:
“I hope we meet again.”
I was in the 8th grade when my world spiraled down and crashed. I was a damn good little actress from then on out. Where I couldn’t convince people I was fine, I shut them out.
And as I grew up the open wound in my heart, it eventually scarred over with the initials KMK forever embedded in it.
You taught me the most important lesson of my life and I will never forget you, even 11 years later.
Since that day I will always remember:
It is never good bye. Because one day we will me again. One day.
“The sands of time cannot be stopped. Years pass whether we will them or not… But we can remember. What has been lost may yet live on in memories. That which you will hear is imperfect and fragmented, yet treasure it, for without you it does not exists. I give you now a memory that has been forgotten, hidden in the dreamy haze that lies behind us.”
Thats what the world is missing these days: a good story.
I wish I had more opportunity to sit with the elder and hear stories. And I’m not talking about what happened yesterday at the grocery store or how kids these days don’t appreciate anything.
But something real.
I don’t have memories of sitting in the living room while my grandparents told us stories about when they were growing up.
People I’ll never meet.
They’re still alive. I think when I go visit them this fall instead of playing board games all night we will tell stories. If this happens, maybe I will share them with you. If I remember.
Story telling is a lost art. Thats all I could think about when reading that quote. So much so, I had to blog about it because I couldn’t continue reading.
Do you get like that with books sometimes when you read something that really makes you think?
Quote from Eragon (book 1) by Christopher Paolini