Medicine

" A faithful friend is the medicine of life." - The Apocrypha

"... They were emotional times, of course, filled with articulated pain. But each day as she dropped me off at my house,I felt better, able to go on. The pressure was released once more - as steam is released when the lid is lifted from a boiling pot. It was as elemental, as simple, as incontrovertible, as that."
Taken from "Healing After Lost; Daily meditations for working through grief." by Martha Whitmore Hickman

I've been unusually blessed with friendships that sustain, uplift, nurture. Some friends I get to spend time with more regularly than others ...and I am so glad for the regularity of those. Others are far away, living busy lives in different circles. And sometimes those far away, busy life people come together ...and I get to spend time with them. Today was one of those days.
When I was in high school, my sophomore year brought two friends into my life that have stayed. They're fixtures in my life, making us a trio. We're all different. We don't need to talk a lot ...but there is a togetherness that has weathered the years. Our perspectives on faith are different ...the way we live it, express it ...are quite different. Yet, there is a respect between us ....not a walking on eggshells, formal respect ...but a genuine, ask some questions, give some answers. There is no "agree to disagree" between us. There is just this trio of us. From proms, to grad school, boyfriends, husbands, babies, houses, moves, jobs ...and deaths, we've shared the storms of each other's lives. We've gone from chinos and fair isle sweaters, to finding clothes that hide our flabby arms. We've grown up together.
By extension, the sisters and aunts have become part of my life's fabric. Its an amazing thing, really, to be part of these women ...these amazing women.
All but one I hadn't seen since Phoebe died, so this was the first time I got to see the third of our trio, and the extension that comes along with her in the form of a sister and aunts. Why am I writing about this? Because this part of my fabric was very much a part of Phoebe's too, and it is a sweet memory to know that these cheerleaders of her loved her so much for who she was ...enjoyed every moment they had with her ...and miss her ... They know Phoebe, and they know what I miss. This girl was no wallflower. Phoebe lived!
Often, people, meaning well will say that Phoebe is out of her struggle, out of her pain. That always bothers me a bit because Phoebe, though she certainly struggled to find her way, figure out the path to adulthood, was not "struggling". Phoebe was on the cusp of some great things. People want to believe that suicide only happens to people who are obviously sad, depressed. But that's not true ...not because I want to stick my head in the sand, ignore reality ...but because that's how the teenage mind works ...more and more these days, as the world continues to offer chaos and confusion. Sad. The people who really knew Phoebe know that about her. These women know. That makes me feel better.
And so Phoebe is missing from my life ...in an obvious way, physically. But today I was really struck with another person I really loved deeply, who was missing. Anne's been gone a long time. The mother of one of my trio friends died when we were in college. I loved her so much. She was always very kind to me ...and patient. I see her face in others, big and round with eyes that drew you into them. I simply loved her like I hadn't any other friend's mother. Today, as one of the aunts was talking to me, she mentioned her sister ...Anne. I barely heard anything she said after she mentioned her name. For the first time I thought and knew that Phoebe had finally met this woman. So often I had shared stories with Phoebe about her, how I loved her, how kind and generous, patient she was. Phoebe had listened, sensing the missing that took hold when I thought of her. And now, she knows her.
As I walk these dark days towards what should have been ...I can see what is instead. What is is good. It hurts, makes me sad and lonely ...but it is good.
These women in my life ...this extension I've been brought into by sheer grace of His hand, His design does not end here. Phoebe remains part of that ...even fuller. I don't want to be separate from Phoebe. I want to be with her ...but the missing heals ever so slightly when it becomes clear to me that someone else I've loved long ago, is part of her new life.
I keep praying to trust, praying to understand what I can, praying to accept ...just praying in the garbled, jumble of words that move from my heart towards Heaven. Even throughout the chaos of my grief, He hears me and sends someone to assure me. Today, it was Anne. If only for a little while ...that's enough.

Eternal rest grant unto Phoebe and may perpetual light shine upon her. May she rest in peace. Amen.