All Things Equal

I know folks were waiting to read my 'witty' summary of the mini meet at the Maine Bean, but to all I should apologize up front. I wasn't in the mood to feel witty and still find it hard to pull the lighter side out of this day for me. I started the day by attending the memorial service for a friend. It was harder than I would have thought, but I was thankful that I had attended. My seventeen year old daughter, Ashley went with me. And together we quickly went through the pack of tissues I had stashed in my bag.

So many memories about Terri were shared by her mother, father, sister, son and her best friend. I looked around and felt like I should have gotten up and said something in her honor. I was one of only two who attended from LL Bean, where Terri and I had met and she had worked for over seven years. So many tales I could have shared with her family. Memories of how she lifted me up when I was going through one of the worst times of my life and how we celebrated the end of my divorce, which ironically landed on her birthday. How we ran off to Rangeley for the weekend to have a girls weekend away after a stressful event at work - only to have one of the guys show up because his marriage was falling apart and he needed shoulders to cry on.

How she decided we should go out and celebrate for my 30th birthday. Old Orchard Beach listening to a live band and walking on the beach barefoot. But I'm still not sure how I ended up the designated driver home, only to get pulled over by the Scarborough police, have my car searched and be told by them that I needed to pick my friends better while she giggled standing at the front of my car as she was being searched for illegal stuff.

Terri would show up at Ashley's performances at school, and when she left Beans we drifted apart. Partially because we lost a common bond, mostly because neither of us took the time to keep the friendship together. Before Christmas I saw her son at work. That's when I learned that she was diagnosed with stage 4 cancer and only had a couple of weeks to live. This spun my past fast and furiously in front of me. Bring old memories to the forefront of my mind. A week later I attended the funeral of my 28 year old niece who died unexpectedly when she was rushed to the hospital for emergency surgery and died while she was being prepped in the ER.

Two deaths in a month can rattle anyone's cage. I was with Terri two days before she died. I held her hand and she tried to tell me something. I thought for sure because of the medication she was on that she was confused. But she held fast and held on tight. She knew something was wrong with her. She begged me to help her fix it. I was with her when she had a brain tumor operated on a few years ago. The doctors were able to fix that. I was heart broken when I had to tell her we couldn't fix it this time. The desperation in her eyes was crushing. I asked her mother, who had been staying with Terri in the hospice if she had been told that the cancer she had was fatal and she nodded.

Somewhere inside of me, it felt like Terri was holding out hope that if I had been there the last time and managed to help make the tumor go away - seeing me would bring the same ray of hope. To be the one to take that ray of hope away from someone, watch the light drain out of her eyes as understanding sunk in, was devastating to me. Its not like I hadn't seen death before, because I have had more around me die than most. I think I can handle the idea of it, but deep down - every time someone dies, they take a piece of me with them. A piece of light that we shared together forever extinguished.

So sitting there as her family shared their memories, I tucked the memories we had shared deeper inside. Feeling selfish that I wasn't strong enough to share them with those that were there to remember her. So once we met up with Teacup, needless to say, my light was slightly dimmer and I didn't really have the energy to put on a truly happy face for everyone. While I enjoyed the company, it was overshadowed by remorse. I came home very inky, carted away 3 of the coveted eclairs, a whoppie pie and 2 cupcakes for my family and pretended everything was happy in my world.

So for those of you looking for the thrills and adventures of what happened at the Maine Bean, I again apologize. While I was there in body, I was not there in heart and soul. Jiffy arranged for a great meet and it was attended by a couple newbies and a few regulars. The stamps were wonderful and I'm thankful I attended because it did bring some light into the shadows of my heart. But a witty summary will have to be handled by others that were there. Because for me, my light was still greatly hiding in the shadows of the passing of a good friend, and the sorrow of a friendship lost.