Good Byes

A friend of my friend just passed away, and I am heartbroken.

It's odd, because I have known this person since I was young, and hard as we tried, ours was a cordial relationship at best. Most times we did not quite see eye to eye, and other than for the mutual friend we had in common, we probably would have never even turned our heads to look at each other.

In the maturity and insight that comes with age, I have come to recognize that I grew resentful of her, because in a way, I felt that she somehow stole my friend away from me. You see, I was the childhood friend, the very first one. Me and my friend met at the age of 3 & 4, and grew up together, went to school together, went through the hardships of teenagehood together, and then, before we knew it, the time came for us to go our separate ways. We went to different colleges, and that's when Maria Elena came into the story.  She was the college friend, and she was engaging, fun, confident, and she truly cared for my friend. I resented that.

The years went by, and our lives took all of us in different directions. We all moved thousands of miles away from home and from one another. We built families that kept us busy, and we didn't speak nearly as often as we'd probably liked to, but it didn't matter, because the love was still there. Oddly enough, I felt peace of mind knowing that my friend still had a strong relationship with her "other" friend. Being so far away from home and family, it is comforting to know that someone still has got your back. I know I am not a very communicative person. I am not one to pick up the phone and make a call. That doesn't mean that I don't care. It is just the way I'm wired. But because I know my failings, it gave me a measure of comfort knowing that she was still there, that she would do the things I wouldn't. She would pick up that phone and make that call, just to see how things were going with my friend. I am grateful for that, because my friend has had a few rough years, and that support has meant the world to her. She hasn't told me so, but I know it.

And now I find out this terrible news, and I am surprised to find myself feeling very sad. I think of her family, the young kids she left behind, and I cannot help but to feel an immense wave of sorrow. Her daughter, in the throngs of teenagehood herself, lost her mother when she most needed her, but at least she will have memories of her, and of the sunny person she truly was. In a few years, her young son will probably have next to no recollection of his mother, a thought that tears me up, as I look over at my own little guy, and wonder what if... the idea is too daunting to bear.

I am grateful that my friend was able to flight to her bedside and be with her just hours before she passed away. I know this made a huge difference to her. She was able to show her friend just how much she loved her. She was able to show her in the way that matters most, that she was a beacon of light in my friend's life, that her life was meaningful in so many intangible ways, that she truly touched other people's lives, and for that very reason, her short time on this earth was not in vain. She lived a life of purpose, love and laughter.

I am sad. My loved one lost a loved one today.

Technology, Blessing or Curse?

WhatsApp is great!  It may just be one of the most genius inventions EVER!! I mean, imagine being able to text (who needs to talk? That’s soooo 20^th century) with anyone you want anywhere in the world, and not having to pay one single cent for every message you sent. Genius.

And to someone like me, whose family is spread out far and wide (and I mean FAAAAR and WIIIIDE), the neat opportunity of finding out what everyone is up to at the single touch of my fingertips, just makes family feel so close (without the added inconvenience of actually having to be close to them, yah know?). So, it stands to reason that I felt eager to have the little app added to my iPhone, and myself added to my beloved family unit’s group. Instant gratification. As soon as the app was on my iPhone, the first ‘ding’ took less than 2 minutes to be heard. Oh! A message!!  So, I go and check it out, to find out immediately that it was one of my nieces sending a message to another one of my nieces, half a world away, but since I’m part of the group, I get the message too. I spend a very entertained afternoon reading what the younger lot of my family has been, is, or will be up to… and the evening, and the early hours of the morning, and noon…. and the darned thing doesn’t. Stop. Dinging!!!... And not a single one of the messages is actually for me. That’s what I get for trying to be interested in my family.

But, when the one niece in Spain is sending texts at 9:00 AM, just on her way to school, to the other one that is in L.A., just getting ready to party at midnight, with input from the gallery in Washington state, south Florida, and lord knows where else, it wakes the fudge up of this ole lady who is trying to sleep at 3:00 AM (what? None of you sleeps with their cell phones next to them??). Whoever thought it was a good idea to be THIS connected?!? Especially when you have a gang of girls (and one lonely guy), ranging in ages from 12 to 23+ in your family. And that is excluding the ones under 10, which I KNOW are just bidding their time to come out and deliver the final blow that will off us all.

And, yes, you could very easily just turn the phone to silent mode, but then, the light goes on every time a message comes through, and no matter how much willpower you think you have, the lure is just too strong. You can’t help yourself. You just need to see what the last ditty is about!! Believe me, I have tried. I am like a drug addict: I know this is not good for me, but I just can’t help it. And I know I’m not the only one. People have been known to have gone insane within this crew. Legend has it that my poor aunt down in Venezuela was last seen pulling her hair out and throwing the danged phone into a pond to “make the voices stop!”  

As for me, I found the feature to mute them all (yeay!!), but the longest I can mute them for is one week. One week of silence. One week of blessed peace… and then, the closer we get to the end of the week, my eye starts twitching, my breathing becomes fast and shallow, my skin is clammy, my hair disheveled…. “Are you feeling ok?,” some concerned stranger asks. “Oh, she’s fine, it’s just that the voices are about to come back,” my 9 year old answers…