A friend of mine died last week. She was 34.
I am 34. My human brain cannot comprehend this.
I can call her phone. I can text. I can hit reply to her email.
I cannot talk to her. I cannot walk with her.
How I Remember JW
Lunchtime walks in Madison Square Park. Nighttime eating in Chinatown. Lunch plans being made right after breakfast.
Shopping and trying on dresses. Always too long on her - too short on me. Blue. She loved the color blue.
Her banana bread - sometimes with chocolate chips, sometimes not. Cooking classes we never took together. Seaweed snacks stashed in her desk I could never grow to like.
In the audience at my improv shows. Even when they sucked, I
could hear her laughing.
Traveling in a car, on a bus, talk of traveling abroad together. Always planning her next trip.
A pink glass beaded bracelet around her wrist. For luck in love, she said.
I was the lucky one.
To have someone so loving in my life.
Thank you for giving me more than four years of friendship.