Dear Carole,

I don’t want your departure to hurt so much, but it does.
Silly, I know. I’m watching the wind blow lush spring foliage like currents in the sea, swirling in multiply-rippled design – now unfurling a wide swath then cutting back against itself, sweeping into new unpredictable configurations and keeping me guessing, waiting, eager for the next sussuration. I envision your spirit – free and unconfined, stretching luxuriously in a slow rush into each nook and every new cranny available to your expansive perception.
Life with you was like that. Fun, adventurous – serious with plenty of irreverence and mischief to keep everything in balance.
You figure prominently in so many significant experiences of my life: co-chairing the BiBi Committee at Austine, corralling some wild women into a spirituality group, modeling motherhood – so proud and respectful of your daughter, she of the best name-sign in the world! All those talks and walks and meals in Vermont, the summer of our Saturday mornings at the Farmer’s Market. The trip to Hawai’i. Our friendship crested and ebbed like breathing as we experienced stretches of intimacy, distance, renewed closeness, and then this long, quiet goodbye.
I remember when you told me they’d found a lump in your breast. You minimized it, sure that it was nothing really, just a bit of lingering karmic energy that you would dissolve in no time. I believed you. You whose consciousness encompassed more spacetime than anyone else I know – probably more than all of us put together! – it just did not occur to me that you might be wrong. Even as the illness got worse and you left work, moving to a safe and quiet place for deep and wholesome healing, I never doubted that you would be back: that your laugh would ring out, your gaze question my grip on reality, your compassion pour out in my presence.
It will have to wait for the next incarnation, now, won’t it? Maybe I’ll have caught up a bit by then.
­čśë
Love,
steph

wink added 8 May 2009
after the shock wore off

One thought on “Dear Carole,”

  1. Glad you could write to her, Steph. It is meaningful therapy! I liked reading about her questioning gaze on you. Real friends can do that. Sorry for losing a dear friend. Maybe this Memorial Day was hard for you? Big hug from me, deep breath…

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