It has been 220 days. Hard to believe.
Let’s pick up where I left off before my life changed horribly. I had lost my weight and was getting ready to have a huge spinal scoliosis surgery. Where’d I go before that? What happened?!
One of a kind.
220 days ago on May 23, 2012, I got a call that nearly killed me and my soul. Remember Best Friend? The Best Friend that I wrote about early on who shaped who I am today and that I loved unconditionally every day for 20 years? Who I talked to every day for 20 years? Who, together, we handled relationships, marriages, disasters, loves, life, some Bad Damn Bosses and a million billion memories in between? Best Friend committed suicide on May 23, 2012.
It was 5 weeks before my surgery. I can’t even begin to describe my shock and despair. I’m amazed I’m still here and breathing. I will write more about this later, but know I have survived the worst thing I ever could have imagined and I’ve had some damn doozies in this life. I lost my Best Friend. A lot had to be done to pick up the pieces of her life – her dogs, her home, all our memories. It was a task I would not wish on my worst enemy (if I had one). But, I wake up every day and I’m still here. Does that make sense?
Living Dilbert is still here. She nearly died from this loss, but damn if she is not still here.
Lisbeth, this one is for you. I hope you are in a better place, free of anguish. Know that I love you, I miss you and I hope to see you again one day. You were an amazing, kind, giving human being that I wish loved herself as much as those of us around you. The world is not quite as bright now, but I will find a way.
I am going to celebrate the incredible person you were…and therefore, who I am.
Someone has to carry on your priceless sarcasm, right?
I am so sorry. What a beautiful person! I think of you often and now I will also think of her.
SO glad that you’re writing again! I’ve missed you terribly!! Welcome back!
Hi! I’ve been wondering how you are. So truly very sorry to learn about your best friend. I’m glad you’re picking up on blogging again…just by sharing such a dear and deep loss tells me you’re in the process of healing. From what, that’s for you to think about, but glad to know you’re back. Missed you and I’ll keep reading.
Oh, LD, I’m so sorry. I know the pain, from my own experience, and all I can do is (HUG). I am glad that you were able to share this with us. What a lovely woman, and a beautiful tribute.
Welcome back LD. It was wonderful to see an email that you had posted. It was courageous and generous for you to share what you have been going through and to spread Lisbeth’s legacy. Sending you light and love. And thank you for coming back. I missed LD in my email inbox.
I have a childhood friend of 40 years who understands me like no one else (and still loves me anyway!) I know what a rare and special gift that is. So sorry for your loss. Bless you! But please keep writing…you make me laugh out loud and that is my favorite thing in the world to do. xoxo
I’m glad you survived. Never forget how much you love Lisbeth and keep thinking about every moment you shared with her, good and bad.
Welcome back, its good that you are writing again…for us but mostly for you. I wish I had some words of comfort for your pain both emotional and physical. We love you. Lets get together soon. I’ll have my people call your people. Big hugs to you beautiful eyes. Xo
OMG, LD – I am so, so sorry. Virtual bear hug x a million
Thank you for sharing this lovely woman with us. I’m glad you’re back, but I surely am sorry for your loss. I applaud your courage and your willingness to lay yourself on the line in order to honor your friend. That takes guts and a vulnerability that is wonderfully human in a sometimes inhuman medium.
Thank you all for your very kind comments. It DOES help a lot! I did love her and am just beginning to really absorb the fact she is no longer here. I still reach for the phone or think, “God, I have to tell Lisbeth that..” and that will take getting used to.
I felt the same way after my dad died. He was the one person I could talk to about anything. That’s something not easily replaced.
I’m so sorry. You’re in my thoughts. I hope you’re recovering not only from the loss but the surgery, too.
I am so sorry!