Love Letter to My Friend

Hello and welcome to a  sunny Saturday here at the Wannaskan Almanac. Today is May 16th. I hope you remembered to pay your property taxes. I almost didn't.

A Love Letter to My Friend

Dear Friend,

Tomorrow we go to the forest to spread your ashes and I know it will be then - in that moment - that my body, heart, and soul will align with the impermeable fact that you are gone. I haven't cried since your death. And for this, I'm sorry. Swept up in the chaos of busy swirling in my own family hive, your passing simply hasn't felt real. I've pushed it down the to-do list of items to be done, processed - felt. But today. Today, I cry for you. Today, I sit and breathe into the space that is your absence. And I feel so, so sad.

I took a walk this morning, passing through trees and around a lake. The air smells of promise - that sweetness only nature can produce. The early morning is light and bright. A bit cool. I think about you and how to best honor you. Today. Tomorrow.

Today, I think about how I love you. "I love you," you often said to me. I love you, I would sometimes say back. Sometimes aloud, sometimes in my mind, sometimes not at all. 

We were fast friends from the moment we met when you interviewed me for the newspaper. You knew right away my depth; that Elevator Girl was just the surface of my complexity. You accepted my party invitation. Knowing you so well now, the rapidity and ease with which you opened yourself to our friendship was truly a rare tulip among your field of dandelion "no's."

We were a generation apart, but kindred spirits in the seriousness of our fierce determination to grasp life with both hands and squeeze, squeeze, squeeze all the good intentions of meaningful work and presence. To use our time well. 

Ikigai. 

You mused over death, and I over life. You welcomed death, and I defy it. The contrast of our views held positive tension that makes me think that, between the two of us - and with the approving third mind of Chairman Joe - we really figured out how to solve all the world's problems.

I adored your mind, your intellect, your determination. I admired your precision of pen and your ability to chisel a phrase, patiently etching the finest of details like a woodcarver does her basswood birds.

Your discipline, I revere, as the gold standard.

In body - with your aikido, yoga, forest walks, faithful trips to the Warroad pool, LifeCare gym at 4am, and physical therapy. As your body veered right, you commandeered the sinking ship with all your might right up to the very end.

In mind - with your constant pursuit of knowledge. The New Yorker. The Atlantic. Poetry Group, Nonfiction Authors group. The intellectual rigor of Really Hard Books Book Club sharpened my mind and made me a better human being, even if I did tease you about your (over)preparation. Salon misses you. We still need to do our Bloomsday pilgrimage.

In spirit. Here's where our beliefs part ways. You believe you return to dust and will be no more. I cannot imagine a world where your life force will not live on and inform the world.

I hope that in knowing my family, you witnessed, then experienced, a sense of familial warmth. When we first started our friendship, you were forthright and adamant: "I don't like kids." But over time, you came to enjoy my children. I think this surprised you. (What can I say, except that my friendship is a package deal?) I like to think that this exposure healed a part of your heart. Some forgiveness through their earnestness, innocence, and curiosity. They all have a fondness for you - another win for affection slipping successfully past the stern sentinels of your heart.

I'm going to cry more today. And probably a whole lot more tomorrow. There are still so many more feelings to feel. More sadness, some regret. Disbelief, incredulity, anger, wistfulness, denial, indignation. All the things. You always counseled equanimity as a guiding life principle. I'll be thinking about that. And for you, I promise, when we're out in the forest gathered in your memory, to honor, respect, and celebrate.

With much love from my whole being,

Kim