And I’m Shattered

Today, I had a feeling, a feeling that today would just suck. I woke up late; I couldn’t get out of bed, like my body was becoming one with the mattress, telling my brain that today can be skipped. My limbs felt full of lead. I was slow moving; I was frustrated; I didn’t have enough time; I was rushing. Clothes, pack lunch, grab bag, shit you didn’t brush your teeth, I thought. Another two minutes wasted. I am speed walking to the train. I look at my phone, not incredibly late, but I will be by a few minutes. One el train comes, it’s crowded, they tell me another one is coming right behind it. I can handle being a few minutes later. I wait. Time slowly ticks by; I hear, in my head, the loud ticking noise of a grandfather clock, tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock. I’m waiting for a train that never comes. An announcement comes on, garbled noise, like someone is speaking underwater, that no one can hear. We all need to get to work. Most of us don’t want to go anywhere, but we must.. They have to be on time. Sometimes, their livelihood depends on it. An hour later, 2 buses and a train later (having to wait for another 4 trains to pass me, before I was able to get on), I was at work. Frazzled doesn’t begin to describe how I was feeling. I needed caffeine. I wasn’t ready for the day. I didn’t want to work. Today had already been tough and it was 9:30.
My phone buzzed loudly on the hollow linoleum table of my cubicle. “Andie’s mom died last night. She was comfortable.” I read it, and my eyes go fuzzy. I’m stunned. But not really. She had brain cancer, it was expected. You can prepare. You can hope for a miracle. You can beg for one more day, even though her dying is painful and heartbreaking. But it still hit me like a freight train. One of my best friends lost her mother last night. She lost her best friend of a mother. And I’m shattered.
It doesn’t matter that she knew it was going to happen. She was there and they told her it was ok, and that everyone loved her. A young, beautiful, intelligent girl lost her also beautiful, young, and incredibly kind mother. And that just isn’t ok. It’s something that you just want to scream at God for: Why? She was a good person! She loved her family so much, she was there for her daughter and sons no matter what. And yet she’s gone. Peacefully, calmly, quietly, but she’s still gone.
I keep going back to one weekend a few years ago. Her family had a cabin up north in Minnesota, about a two hour drive from the Twin Cities. We had to borrow her SUV to take us up there, 5 of us piled in a car blasting the radio one summer weekend for a couple days of sun, swimming, underage drinking, and a bit of skinny dipping. Her mom knew what we were going to do, she even took Andie to the liquor store. She wrote us turn by turn directions with little love notes in between (if you look to your left, that’s the gas station we normally stop at. They have a great candy selection!). We spiked our sprites with vodka, we sat out on the dock and talked. We danced on the tables. We played drinking games and never have I ever. Andie’ mom gave us a weekend of quintessential teenagehood. We were a little dangerous, a little rebellious, we smoked a bit of pot and we were all convinced we had the munchies. Things that we never did high school, because we were the good girls. Andie’s mom trusted us with a few days alone and a walk on the wild side. She trusted the solid, loving, kind, and responsible person Andie had become, and her friends along with her.
Anger flashes red in my eyes when I think about the fact that Andie is now motherless. Her father is a widower, and how Kelley will never see her children get married, or have children of their own. Her life was taken from her in a horrible fashion; she wasted away slowly, her body giving up well before her mind, confidence, and optimism did.
I will remember her fondly. I will stand by Andie’s side even though I am 400 miles away and all I want to do is be with her and hold her hand. I know she is well taken care of. Her family is surrounding her, comforting each other. We have friends in Minnesota, taking care of her, her boyfriend is loving and a rock for her to lean on. She will move forward, always remembering, always loving her mother, but forward is the only way to move, life continues. Kelley would want her to move forward, to continue her life. After all, she will be watching.