Time to talk
I've had a lot of stuff on my mind lately. A lot of it has to do with Cait, and it's been impossible to talk about it. But I realized last night as I was loving and talking my daughter through this very same issue - that it was time for me to take my own advice. To talk about her and my memoires and the grief. Sometimes it'll be funny, sometimes it'll be raw, but it will always be real.
And it will be behind a cut.
As a lot of you know, 8 months ago I lost one of my best friends to breast cancer. Her name was Cait ... and Paddy ...and Rise ... and "Wench" and a lot of other little names we give each other over the years. I haven't been able to talk about her much, and it's surprised some folks. I hate talking about her in the past tense. But I hate not talking about her even more. Yesterday Rhy wrote about something that she and I talked about this weekend over New Year's. And then some of us chimed in with our own thoughts and although there was a real fear I'd feel more sad (as if that's possible) it made me laugh and it was good to share those memories.
Here's a picture of one:
And the scary is ... when I first saw this in the library of her house -- I didn't remember it - or where it was taken, or what was so funny at the time. "Oh my god" I thought "What kind of friend am I that I can't even remember this?" -- Alex told me about it, for which I am entirely grateful. But still ... we knew each other for 15 years and it's scary what I don't remember because right now those memories are precious to me, like gold in the bank.
She loved to read - she'd read everywhere, in fact the one thing you could always count on when you saw her, is that somewhere, either on her person, or in her purse, she had a book close by. When you asked her why she worked she would proudly tell you "So I can buy all the books I want". Well, that and all the other hobbies she had a mad passion for. One of my funniest phone calls from her was her calling me and telling me I'd made her late for work -- I'd loaned her a book that she became so engrossed in .....she missed her metro stop ... but 3 or 4 stops and had to get out and walk back - reading the whole time. Her house was full of books - I don't think there was one room in her house that didn't have a book or some sort of reading material close at hand. One of her favorite authors was Connie Willis - someone I'd like to read this year. Maybe I'll take it to Pennsic.
She also made up fabulous Pooh like names for things like one year at Pennsic it was the "Rosey Glow of Contentment" (ask Alex) - or she would often comment on the "Myriad things that thwart Me" a phrase she happily let me me take. Was it silly that a grown woman would sing "It's good to be the Paddy all the time"? Nope .... it made perfect sense. She sang that song for years ... to her daughter, to us, to herself, before and even after she learned she had cancer.
It's good to be the Paddy all the time
Oh, it's good to be the Paddy all the time
It's good to be the Paddy in the morning
It's good to be the Paddy in the evening
It's good to the Paddy 'cause the happy never stops
As long as your the Paddy being Paddy is the tops
Oh, it's good to be the Paddy all the time.
I miss her so much, I miss her every day. I'm glad she was in my life.
Time to go down to my sewing room and get creative.
And it will be behind a cut.
As a lot of you know, 8 months ago I lost one of my best friends to breast cancer. Her name was Cait ... and Paddy ...and Rise ... and "Wench" and a lot of other little names we give each other over the years. I haven't been able to talk about her much, and it's surprised some folks. I hate talking about her in the past tense. But I hate not talking about her even more. Yesterday Rhy wrote about something that she and I talked about this weekend over New Year's. And then some of us chimed in with our own thoughts and although there was a real fear I'd feel more sad (as if that's possible) it made me laugh and it was good to share those memories.
Here's a picture of one:
And the scary is ... when I first saw this in the library of her house -- I didn't remember it - or where it was taken, or what was so funny at the time. "Oh my god" I thought "What kind of friend am I that I can't even remember this?" -- Alex told me about it, for which I am entirely grateful. But still ... we knew each other for 15 years and it's scary what I don't remember because right now those memories are precious to me, like gold in the bank.
She loved to read - she'd read everywhere, in fact the one thing you could always count on when you saw her, is that somewhere, either on her person, or in her purse, she had a book close by. When you asked her why she worked she would proudly tell you "So I can buy all the books I want". Well, that and all the other hobbies she had a mad passion for. One of my funniest phone calls from her was her calling me and telling me I'd made her late for work -- I'd loaned her a book that she became so engrossed in .....she missed her metro stop ... but 3 or 4 stops and had to get out and walk back - reading the whole time. Her house was full of books - I don't think there was one room in her house that didn't have a book or some sort of reading material close at hand. One of her favorite authors was Connie Willis - someone I'd like to read this year. Maybe I'll take it to Pennsic.
She also made up fabulous Pooh like names for things like one year at Pennsic it was the "Rosey Glow of Contentment" (ask Alex) - or she would often comment on the "Myriad things that thwart Me" a phrase she happily let me me take. Was it silly that a grown woman would sing "It's good to be the Paddy all the time"? Nope .... it made perfect sense. She sang that song for years ... to her daughter, to us, to herself, before and even after she learned she had cancer.
It's good to be the Paddy all the time
Oh, it's good to be the Paddy all the time
It's good to be the Paddy in the morning
It's good to be the Paddy in the evening
It's good to the Paddy 'cause the happy never stops
As long as your the Paddy being Paddy is the tops
Oh, it's good to be the Paddy all the time.
I miss her so much, I miss her every day. I'm glad she was in my life.
Time to go down to my sewing room and get creative.