Kick-off

My friend barely lands at Logan and we are packed and on our way.  Falmouth Heights ...our first summer expedition every year ...for many.  First, it was just me and two little ones ...and now more.  My friend lives in Colorado ... but many of her roots are here.  I've known her a good long time ...back when I had pimples and crushes, back when fair isles sweaters, clogs and 'chinos' were the fashion ...way back.  We were fifteen when I met her and three of us became fast, lifelong friends.  Kelly moved more than a decade ago ...and we were sad.  Life changes, relocations, separations of friends, mix things up ...force us to find our way, unbalanced at first.  It was hard when she left.  I remember Phoebe, Olivia and Hannah with me to say goodbye to them in their living room.  Similar temperaments, we chatted. laughed ...and when the eyes filled ...she simply left.  It was too much, this life change.  But what we knew and what held it together for me was 'the cottage.'  Her parents bought this well loved, cozy (read between the lines) little house across from the common when we were in high school ...and now, married with her own family, it was hers.  Every summer she would come back ...and every summer, I pack my car with clothes and kids, food and a beach chair ...and we go.  For years, Phoebe has been with me.  This summer she wasn't.  Years ago, the cottage was renovated.  A new kitchen, bedroom and bathroom replaced the part of the house that was sloping.  The astro-turf from the 40 yard line was ripped up, hardwood floors gleam now.  The pantry no longer opens to the outside.  We all loved the change ...except Phoebe.  "Why did you change it ...it was so perfect the other way." We'd all laugh, tell her she was crazy.  She didn't like the familiar to change ...and she had so many memories in the mold infested part of that house.  She was too little to have experienced having to walk sideways past the shower to get to the toilet, as an adult.  We had to move carefully in that space.
Phoebe loved this friend ...a lot.  They laughed all the time together.  She knew she was well loved ....no phoniness between them.  Her oldest daughter and Phoebe are the same age.  While Phoebe would perform for everyone, come up with the next best adventure ...Annie would laugh and go along, her quiet demeanor excited by her friends non-stop enthusiastic exploration.  It was Phoebe who led. 
The weather forecast was not promising ...still bathing suits, beach chairs are packed.  It is Kelly ...we go to the beach rain or shine ...and we did.  Thunder rumbles in the distance ...the kids scream and run out, grabbing towels, twizzlers, laughing at past times.  "This always happens with you ...we get caught in a monsoon EVERY time" they say to my friend.  We look out at the water, knowing that if Phoebe were here, she would still be in the water ...."I laugh at thunder!  See if it dares to approach!"  she might yell laughing from the water.  I'm counting heads ....she is missing.  I am missing her.
We laugh ...silly things happen ...we are here in this place with our friends ...a good place.  Annie remembers last time she and Phoebe rented a tandem bike and rode into town ...Phoebe leading them through the MacDonald's drive thru, ordering, pulling up to the window ...laughing hysterically, pleased with her humor, her daring.  I hadn't heard that story and somehow now revel in the delight I know Phoebe found in their adventure.  I'm glad we can talk about her ...she is still part of our conversation.
Time to go ....our turn here done for now.  Lots of hugs ...see you soons.  We leave.
It is always the leaving I find hard.  Doing the things Phoebe was such a part of are not hard.  I find them comforting somehow ...still sensing her.  After all, they would not be what they are to us had she not been part of them ...these traditions, moments, memories.  But when I drive away, it descends, the tears pool and I fight them back.  But this time, as I stop behind another car, lost in my own thought of her, I hear a screech and then the BAM as the car lurches forward.  We've been hit from behind ...and thankfully we are all okay.  The other driver, a cut arm, air bags gone off, windshield smashed.  I am on the sidewalk, no damage to my car or us ...and all I want to do is scream at the very top of my lungs "My daughter is dead."  It is all so surreal.  How can I have such fun, be at such peace ....only to be slammed to the pits of despair.  "What do you need?"  they ask me.  I want to tell them  "I need Phoebe back."  How can life be so cruel?  How can a mother lose a daughter?  How can the world go on and not know that Phoebe is dead?s
I've been so blessed.  Most of my friends are incredibly sensitive and understand the nuances of this dance of grief.  They place no demands on me ...let me soar and dip as often as I must.  I find comfort in them.  They are here ...even in their own chaos of life ...they think to ask me, check in ...and listen.  They ask about my kids ...want to know ...this unwelcome burden they bear.  But ...on the side of the road, no one knows how being hit only confirms that Phoebe is dead and pushes me further into the sadness.  It will pass, I know, for a bit.  The finality of death offers no finality of missing, grief, sorrow.  
We share our stories of our days, my husband and I, and then we pause  "there were those moments, you know"  he says. Yes, I do.  Our daughter, our beloved, high-spirited, grand adventurer of a daughter is dead ...and her moment of darkest despair is months away, well behind her.  If only she had known.  If only she had waited.  If only she were here. We force gratitude ...reach to grasp the moment, be in it, show our kids that life is good, that we are still happy.  It is the hardest work as a mother I've ever had to do ...show my kids how to reach for joy, when it is the very last thing you want to do. 
It is the best I can do for this family, myself, for God.  It is these moments that become all about trusting Him, following His ways, striving for gratitude ....and believing there will be a day again, when my eyes rest on my beautiful daughter ...and will never have to leave.
Our summer now traditionally "kicked-off" with our annual visit ...it's official, Phoebe's just not coming back. 

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