Gone but not forgotten....

“I just have a hard time dealing with death.”  These are the words my 20 year old daughter said to me with her voice breaking after she came down to console me after I learned of the death of one of my oldest friends.  Those words immediately dried my  tears and kicked me into “Mom gear” – the gear of forgetting your own pain but trying to put it into perspective for your baby.  She was right – death is hard to deal with.  It is  final – and finality is hard to accept.  It’s such a different sense of loss.  You lose a job – you’ll find another,  you lose a boyfriend – another one always comes along, you lose your temper – you can usually make amends.   But death – you will NEVER see that person again while you are living.  That is almost impossible to accept.

That’s when God takes over.  He immediately fills your senses with almost every happy memory you had with that person.  It’s crazy.  The memories just wash over you – things you haven’t thought of in years – things that you had forgotten.  So that’s what I shared with my daughter.  Remember – always remember… and cherish those memories.   Your loved ones live on in your memories.

I’ve lost some of the most influential people in my life when they were too young – - far too young.  I lost my father when he was only 56.  He died of lung cancer.  Yes he smoked (which people always ask me – like that makes it ok) – but he had quit 20 years earlier – cold turkey.  He was a doctor, and he understood his disease – too well.  He tried to beat it and fought like hell, but it was just too tough.   I remember his eyes…. his eyes became so big and pleading.  He asked me if he was a good father; he apologized for not being there for us when we were little (my parents divorced when I was 5)…I assured him he was always there for us – maybe not in person, but he always took care of us.  So in a way – his death healed any guilt or pain either of us had for a father/daughter relationship that was not a fairytale.  We loved each other –I got my senses of humor and adventure from him – I know that.   My brother’s sense of humor is exactly like my dad’s too – even his laugh.

 I’ll never forget hanging up the phone after learning of his death – so final and sad.  That’s when God sent the memories --- I remembered everything all at once – like a blur – I remembered singing  “I see the beacon and the beacon sees me” when the beacon atop Methodist Hospital would come into view as we’d drive to visit my dad during his internship there.   The way he always drove huge Cadillac Eldorado convertibles and would insist on having the top down no matter what.  We’d get ice cream, and he’d pop us in the car and drive off with the top down.  With the wind blowing, my hair would wrap around the ice cream, then wrap around my face – what a mess!   I remember how he taught me poker, and would let me win – letting my winnings accumulate…and just as I was spending the money in my head – he would bet me double or nothing.  I’d bite  and lose everything – over and over.   I always bit.  He would always laugh and say "Geez Lis, I can't believe you fell for it again".  I do not gamble anymore – I credit my dad for that!  He was a brilliant well rounded man and a skilled surgeon, and   whenever I see a doctor in scrubs my heart aches a little.   I  remember….

Learning about the death of my boyfriend from college was devastating.   He was the brightest light I’ve ever met – just a wonderful person.  Although I hadn’t seen him since we’d ended our relationship 25 years earlier– he influenced my entire life..  I admired his approach to life - really trying to see the good in people…really trying to take the high road.  That’s how Steve was.  He always made people feel good – even if they didn’t necessarily deserve it.   He would tell me that it took nothing from him to make others feel special.  So, although I will never be the person Steve was, I try to be a better person.  I try to teach my kids those lessons – don’t gossip, don’t judge – hard to do – but Steve’s influence makes me try.  We never know the whole story – give people a break - and don’t find joy in someone else’s misfortune or poor judgment.  That’s what Steve taught me.  When I learned of Steve’s death I felt like I’d been kicked in the stomach.  He was only 50 –  he committed suicide.  I don’t question his reasons – he had them- clearly.  I don’t judge him for his action as so many do when it comes to suicide.  It just absolutely broke my heart – for him,  for his family, for his friends – for me.  I joined facebook because of his death, and as I reconnected with old friends,  I had that one very sad nagging feeling – I would never be able to reconnect with Steve – to thank him for making me try to be a better person – for helping me understand how to raise my kids.  He never knew the influence he had on my life.  That’s when the finality of death really hit me – I was completely heartbroken --- and that’s when God rushed in with the memories….  I remembered every specific thing… the way he’d encouraged me to take on challenges I didn’t think I could do – the way he celebrated my success when I actually did it  or consoled me when I didn’t.  I remember his hand turning the knob on the door before we walked into my surprise party on my 19^th birthday – what a strange memory.  I remember the way we’d dance at parties, and how his eyes sparkled with laughter. The beauty of Steve was how he could make every experience – no matter how small – memorable.  I will forever remember that special person, and when I start to get negative, I remember his lessons.  I remember….

And now Mary is gone…. at only 54.  Her battle with ovarian cancer was long and hard fought.  She was my boss and became my cherished friend.  She was my maid of honor when I married my husband Tom, and she was Christine’s Godmother.  I was in her wedding when she married her husband Rich, and I was with her 5 years later when he was diagnosed with a brain tumor and sadly died.   After Rich’s death the rainbows appeared…  She believed it was Rich looking down on her, and I adopted her belief that rainbows show up when you need hope….  I’d questioned God when Mary was diagnosed with cancer, and I questioned him more as he would make her think she’d beaten it finally and it would once again rear it’s ugly head.  But I think his real work was helping her face it with humor and dignity.  I said goodbye to her yesterday, and as everyone talked about how she amazingly battled her disease,  all my mind could do was relive the memories.  I didn’t really hear anyone’s words – I watched the replay in my head of all our times together.  I remembered her beautiful blue eyes that held innocence and mischief at the same time.   I remembered The “Mowgli dance” we used to do every time we’d see each other --- in restaurants – at meetings – we didn’t care.  How she’d always “Swwwing by” for a glass of Chardonnay after work, how she burst into tears when Tom surprised her at her wedding after having surgery the day before for a tumor.  And I remembered her laugh - her beautiful effervescent laugh.   I remember….

So I’ve lost three very influential people in my life – the people who helped shape me.  It’s final – they will never ever come back.  I told Christine that it’s hard and it’s not fair…. but that’s why we have the memories.  God wants that for us.  He takes these people from us for his own reason, even if we don’t agree. Really,  how can we agree – ever?  He has his reasons, and we have to trust that our loved ones are going to have a wonderful eternity.   I believe that those we’ve lost  look down on us after they are gone, and I absolutely believe that God has given them the power to fill our heads with all of those memories.  I believe that the reason some of these memories surprise us is because they aren’t just our own memories – they are our joint memories…and God is pulling us back together through those.  They do live on – they live on in our hearts--- they teach us life lessons that remain with us forever.  So I tell my daughter – remember – always remember……