Your Dress

Today I hung up your dress in my closet.  Not because I ever plan on wearing it.  But because I have so many memories of you associated with it, and I just couldn't bear to pack this one up.  I think of you every day, love you.

An armful of happy thoughts

I've looked at this card often over the past several weeks.  Just a few kind words, but they have reached me in a very meaningful way.

Random pictures from my photostream

Some random moments from the past couple of weeks...

Discussing some of Dawn's last wishes at HUP in Philly.  It may seem weird.  But it was both an intense and also hilarious conversation, I want to remember it.  Even some of my notes (this was only the 1st draft) simultaneously make me sad and make me laugh.

Weird sign in the hospice bathroom closet:

Ridiculous pizza that Kristen and I picked up to bring to the hospice for dinner.  Why is there a sea of cheese on top???  

I bought this unicorn for Dawn to color while she was bored in the hospital in Philadelphia.  Unfortunately she got too sick and she declined before she ever got the opportunity.  So when Zoey came to visit Dawn the night she arrived to hospice, she sat in the room with Dawn and colored it for her.  It was really important to Zoey to finish it for Dawn.  The necklace is Zoey's, it had been her favorite necklace since she was 2 years old and she never parted with it.  That night it was her idea to take it off and give it to Dawn, said she wanted her to have it.  Dawn wore it as a bracelet throughout her hospice stay and also wore it at her viewing:

Trying to find clothes for Dawn to wear at her viewing.  Even the most somber of tasks require a little levity.  

I went to Belco to get Dawn's accounts settled.  This was written on the back of the card I received with her account number on it:

 Found in Dawn's belongings.  Extra funny since Dawn never napped.

I have mixed feelings about remembering this one.  I went to Target to try to find a cardigan or sweater for Dawn to wear over her viewing dress and disaster pretty much ensued.  I panicked over nothing being right and started sending Sunita and Kristen texts with me trying on different options.  Shortly thereafter I had an epic meltdown amidst the clothing racks, bawling and throwing cardigans on the floor.  Some poor sales associate came over to ask if she could help and I vaguely remember unleashing (while sobbing and standing in a pile of clothes) about how nothing would work for a dead best friend's viewing.

Going through Dawn's clothing was a difficult but necessary task, and one best accomplished with her best girlfriends.  And wine.  Sunita, Kristen, and I lovingly went through bins of her clothing.  Laughing about memories associated with certain pieces.  Laughing about some of the ridiculous things Dawn had (really, who needs a teal velour track jacket??).  Crying with the loss of her.  But doing it all together. 

I recognize the weirdness of this next one, but I make no apologies.  The day after Dawnapalooza, I received my half of Dawn's cremated remains.  I haven't received her "permanent home" yet, so I put her in Dawn's old Barbie lunchbox.  It felt right, don't judge.  I came home sad and hungover, and crawled in bed to watch "The Cutting Edge" - one of my old favorite hangover movies.  I may have put Dawn on the bed next to me.  It felt right, don't judge.  

Hanging at the Hospice

Well this week freaking sucked.

I think many of us closest to Dawn were in a pretty dark place this week.  Particularly with most of the "to-do's" done and the group of us dispersing back home in different towns, there was an acute emptiness and darkness.  

I found myself drawn back to the hospice.  One day after I dropped the kids off at school, I was driving and simply found myself there.  It was peaceful and comforting.  The shared experience we all had there and the resulting closeness was almost palpable.  Being there was the most connected I felt to Dawn, and to the loss of her, since she passed away.  I think I may find myself back in that gazebo fairly often.

Just Breathe

It's been two weeks since Dawn died.  Everyone asks how I'm doing, and truth be told I've been a wreck since Dawnapalooza ended.

Until the party I was grieving but maintaining.  Because ever since Dawn got sick I was in "crisis mode" - decisions to be made, things to do, all moving forward.  I am excellent in crisis mode - when calamity strikes I am in my element.  It's why I was drawn to emergency nursing.   From her decline in Philadelphia, to her move to hospice, through her death, to planning her arrangements with the viewing and the party, I was constantly still immersed in things to do.  Grieving but filled with purpose.

I logically knew after all of the "to-do's" were over that everything would feel more final.  I knew that.  But I was not remotely prepared for the enormous gravity of that feeling.

It hit me after the final Spider Kelly song ended at Dawnapalooza.  It was like getting kicked in the chest and having all of my breath sucked away.  Literally, I couldn't breathe.  It came on so suddenly and completely.  Suddenly she was just gone.  And there was nothing to fill the space, except her absence.  It was blinding, excruciating, filled with panic, and all of my forward momentum came to a screeching halt.  Because she was just GONE.

My best friend was gone.

Yeah I've been a wreck.

Crying on the floor in the fetal position wreck.  Can't breathe.  Gutted.  It's ugly.   And I am consumed with my memories of her.  Because almost all of our best memories were together.   I know over time her light will shine through this darkness and the memories will be sweet.  Logically I get it.  But right now... right now I just want to figure out how to breathe again.