Loss of a Friend

No, she didn't die. But she is no longer part of my life.

I won't regale you with all the stories.

But when someone has been a part of your life for almost half of your life, the loss is hard.

It got too hard. Too difficult. Too fraught with tension. I got really tired of tip-toe-ing around. I got tired of not saying what was on my mind. So I stopped.

I got tired of being 'friends' with someone, when it was all about her. My stuff didn't matter.

She's a difficult person; always has been. But that was ok for a long time. And then it just got to be not-OK anymore.

I'm not saying that I am perfect.

She got really vicious at the end. It showed me that she was filled with hate and malice. The emails were written to stab and hurt; and they did.

So I'm sad. But relieved at the same time.

But more sad. Than glad.

Tragedy in a life

Do you have time to read a story? It's sad, so be prepared.

When we first moved here, I remember being told a terrible story about two children, a brother and sister, being killed, quite a few years ago. They were on an ATV, going down a dirt road (that is just a few minutes away), and they didn't stop in time where the dirt road ends at an intersection. Not a busy road, but there was a car coming. They were hit and both killed. There is a small memorial there. I heard the story from a few different people, and it has haunted me. I heard the story from a woman whose husband was first at the scene. We often ride our horses that way, and pass the memorial, and pause, and say a prayer. Can you imagine ?

Fast forward -
on Good Friday of this year, my horses broke the fence in the arena overnight, and got loose. Typically, horses would stay near to home. This time they did not - I blogged about that morning here:
http://woolies-woolies.blogspot.com/2008/03/great-escape.html
We found our horses safe and sound, at the home of a wonderful woman named Cathy. I just instantly liked her, and we've begun a friendship. We've had a few lunches together, went to some yard sales together. Today I had lunch with her, and I found out that she is the mother of those two children that were killed. I just sat in the restaurant and cried. I cannot imagine her pain, her suffering, her immeasurable loss. I cannot imagine her strength. Her children were ages 12 and 9, gone, just like that, in a flash.

And it seems that a destiny has brought us together. Why in the world did my horses end up in her front yard?? I've sensed, since I've known her, a sadness - a grief - in her. I've wanted to ask her - "so, you never had children?", but something has always stopped me. Maybe I was waiting to hear. Maybe I knew.

Now I cannot do anything this afternoon but think about her; her loss. I cannot imagine.

And I wait for my kids to come home, safely, from school.



Hug your children; hold them close.

This is my tribute to Cathy, and her bravery.