Yesterday was the one year anniversary of Nikki's baby girl leaving this world. I hate that no words made yesterday easier for their family and that this is a battle they've each had to deal with in their own way, just as everyone does with grief.
I think a lot about my friendship with Nikki and Amanda, two women who started out as co workers and who ended up becoming lifelong friends.
I remember the day I found out that Nikki had lost her mom. I was ringing up an order for a woman who knew the family, and Nikki had walked past us and waved to the woman. As she walked away, the customer mentioned that Nikki had lost her mom and had done an amazing job looking after her younger siblings. I don't know that I've ever even shared this story with her, but I remember thinking how impossible it seemed that this incredibly strong girl, who was so confident and so much fun and full of life, had suffered such a huge loss at such a young age. I couldn't imagine, and just the thought of losing either of my parents made me sick to my stomach. When she was shopping for the perfect wedding dress, I remember mom mentioning how much it broke her heart to know her mom was missing from such a major life event. I think she even offered to go with her, which would have been weird, especially if she wasn't wearing waterproof mascara.
It's crazy to think this college friendship that formed over a lot of alcohol, long shifts and Nik's inability to say "no" when a guy asked her out on a date turned into one in which the three of us were bonded by loss; Nikki losing her mom, Amanda losing her dad a few years after graduating from Penn State, and me losing mom and then dad.
How does that happen? How do we have exactly the people we need in our lives to see us through the toughest moments of our existence?
Neal and I have both been lucky enough to have friends that have seen us through hell and high water. I get chills when I think about Alyssa going to sit next to dad in the hospital and hold his hand and tell him we were on our way to him, just so he wasn't alone. He wasn't conscious, but I know he had to have felt her there. And Brux, meeting me at the hospital that day. The pained look on her face when I walked into the hospital after she sent a text that said something along the lines of "the doctors need to talk to you. They need you to make a decision, honey." And she sat in the waiting room with me after I gave them permission to operate, knowing there was an 80% mortality rate and there was a good chance they'd lose him on the operating table. Christy, Alyssa and Kate...one of Neal's other wonderful friends. Probably a million places they'd rather be than sitting in that cold room, but they did not budge.
And the moment dad let go, when Neal hadn't gotten there yet, his two best friends since childhood were in that room. And Alyssa. And Kaitlyn. And they all sat with dad, after he was already gone, just in case Neal wanted the chance to see him and say goodbye. Those kinds of friends are the ones you can't even begin to thank. You can't even put it into words how much you love them.
Just like mom's best friend Mary Ann said to us about her: "Sometimes, you love a person so much that there just aren't even words to describe it." On the day mom left, Mary Ann sat next to Neal with her hand on his back, all of us sobbing, as he read "I'll Love You Forever" to her, one last time. They sat there together, knowing it was almost the end. Neal looked up at Aunt Linda, somewhat echoing Mary Ann's sentiment, and said "I have told her I love her so many times, and it still will never be enough." Mom's earliest partner in crime sat next to her as she took her last breath, and my earliest partner in crime set next to me and watched her free spirited aunt, godmother, and big sister of her own mom, go.
All these linked connections with all these humans, and as each of your lives played back to you as you each went, I'm certain those were the faces who were there for your happiest memories. Those are the people who made your life.
And how incredible that Neal and I inherited friends that are similar in importance and love and unwavering support as the ones you both had. Dad with the faux fam; mom with Mary Ann and Diane. People who would have done the same for you both, and probably did at one point or another, a generation before. People who continue to be there for us, to give us that connection to you both and to look out for us as we go through the rest of our lives without you.
So while I wish I could fix my favorite people on days when they feel especially broken, I know from experience that all I can do is just be there for them, however I can, as others have been there for me.
