The second in the Letters to Lisa series of posts.. I might be posting them frequently to somewhat catch up with current date and time. Also, family names have been changed, hopefully respecting their privacy while still telling my “story”. Phil & Terry are siblings and Mary is a close friend and housekeeper. JT is our highly respected and beloved high school choir director.
Lisa-
Today’s letter might be brief as I have to function in the real world. It’s a gorgeous day today – one I’d love to share with you. Maybe at Blacklick, or with an impromptu picnic lunch. Or, sitting on your porch that never got used. Something – basking in the day. In our friendship.
I want to be in touch with your family, but I don’t know if I should. As you full well know, I never really felt like they liked me all that much. Yet, at the visitation and post-funeral gathering, they were fabulous – even Phil! Since, though – not a word. And, I know for Terri anyway, it’s just a matter of not being able to move forward. Mary called – Terri’s been crippled by your loss.
We all have been, really. I’ve only felt somewhat normal for the past 30 hours or so. And, I do emphasize “somewhat”. Normal will never be the same again. And, I wait for the normal feeling to give way to heart-breaking grief at any moment. Part of me doesn’t want the grief to completely disappear because it’s the only current connection I have with you. Everything else is past, memories, photos, stories. They’re lovely, but in grief, I’m actually with you. I’m not sure if it’s healthy. I don’t want to lose myself in your loss like I did with the loss of my church life, but yet, this is so much bigger. So much deeper. So much more painful. I’m not sure how I’ll be able to avoid the paralysis.
I had lunch with JT yesterday. It was mostly to talk about you, but ended up being about everything under the sun. He hates that he missed your services – somehow didn’t get the info in time, even though he knew of your death. Maybe I dropped that ball? Not sure. Anyway, he’s still such an amazing man. Such a teacher. Such a professional, yet still such a brat! The man loves to gossip! He always did, didn’t he? We talked for four hours! It was wonderful.
Were you there? Did you listen? Did you laugh at his stories with me? Or, are you with your family helping through these long days of summer?
Can you even be in two places at once now? Can you really see what we do? Or do you only come when needed – when invited? Or, are you just asleep? Totally finished both on this earth and beyond? I’ve never wanted to know the answer to these questions like I do now. Have you met my Grandpa H. yet? He’ll be wearing flannel, I’m sure. What about my cousin Erin? Can she run there? Does she know she’s an aunt now?
Do they give you enough salad dressing? I can’t imagine your taste for swimmy lettuce has gone anywhere.
Can you visit me? In sleep maybe? I so want to see you again and I know that if I do, I’ll hurt 10,000 times worse upon waking, but…
…ah, I suppose now I’m just getting greedy and silly.
Anyway, today is beautiful. It’d be even more so if I could share it with you.
Stay near – however that works.
~Heidi
Oh Heidi…I didn’t dare post a comment when I read your first letter, but now that I have read the second (and had braced myself for its contents) I feel compelled to comment. These are beautiful letters, and perhaps the most frank and honest accounting of grief I’ve ever had the privilege to read. Thank you for sharing.
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curlykew Reply:
June 28th, 2009 at 5:52 pm
And thank you for reading. They helped me get through probably the toughest year of my life, so I’m grateful others can read and maybe gain some comfort in their own areas of grief.
I miss her so.
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Just going to keep you and Lisa in my thoughts. This is truly moving. What a friendship it was for you both.
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keep going girl
its got to be good for you and hey any one who reads
wish i could have been around
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Heidi,
At the funeral I hugged you & said, “I can’t imagine losing my Best Friend”. I hurt so much for you. I knew how I felt, and still do, losing Lisa. It was incomprehensible to me how you must feel. How brave & heart breaking at the same time to read your letters. My heart hurts for you. I can only pray that this will be healing for you. I am sure with every milestone in your life, there is a hole. God Bless you & be with you, always. I truly believe Lisa is with you & watching over you. I am sure, she misses you as much as you miss her. Thank you for opening such a personal part of your heart to all of us.
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curlykew Reply:
June 29th, 2009 at 5:09 pm
Oh, Holly, I remember well what you said at the funeral – it was one of most helpful, kind things anyone could have said at the time.
These letters have been healing, which I guess is why I decided to post them – maybe for someone else who is hurting in a similar fashion. It was always comforting to me to hear of someone else’s feelings and think, “Oh! So…you mean, I’m NOT crazy!?”
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