Those soul crushing hugs. They kill me. The ones where you can feel the literal pain of the person you’re hugging. The sobs coming from the deepest part of their soul. The death grip, like if they let go they will fall into all the pain they are releasing. It’s the kind of hug you never want to give, yet feel honored you’re trusted enough to receive it.
My friend died. After a long, awful battle with COVID her body said fuck you and stopped. My heart aches for her. Her family. She spent 40 awful days in the hospital just to die on day 41. Sadly she was there. Coherent for over 14 of those days before she began to truly slip. That’s 14 days alone. 14 days leading up to her death without her kids. Her husband. Her sister. Her parents. Her stubbornness was her blessing and her curse in this scenario. She fought so f’ing hard. Yet, her body couldn’t do what her brain/spirit/soul wanted. 41 days of misery just to die. I can’t tell you the ending was good. It was awful. Horrid. Probably 2 of the longest weeks in existence. If that’s my ending I don’t want to fight for those 41 days. She shouldn’t have spent the end of her life alone, in pain, suffering, knowing she was likely dying at the very end before she slipped into unconsciousness for good. It’s not fair. It’s awful.
Of course she died on a Sunday. Doesn’t everyone? Kira was just murdered on Sunday – 5/31/20 at approximately 7:45 p.m. Brenda’s body failed on Sunday – 10/13/20 – at approximately 11:30 a.m. If you want to keep going, Jamie passed away on Sunday during his morning nap, 4/17/05, from SIDS at 9 1/2 months old. Yep. No wonder I f’ing hate Sundays. Like the thought of it coming makes me want to puke.
I will miss her like crazy. Our kids were the same age. She leaves behind an adult son and 3 kids in high school. No more football, baseball, basketball, plays, choir concerts. None. I always sat by her. Her loud cheering voice. She cheered enough for the both of us. Do you know how quiet those fields will be? She was like that friend you take for granted. She’ll just always be there. She’ll always be around to sit by. To sell you something. To buy what you’re selling. To make you crocheted items. She wasn’t the kind of friend you expected to suddenly pass away in her 40s. Just like that. Nope. She should be here.
She should have been there tonight. For her children’s Christmas Choir Concert. Because holding it together sucked. Because not having her to talk to sucked. Because watching her 3 children sing and knowing their mama couldn’t watch it sucked. It all sucked.
Because hugging her sister really really really fucking sucked. It’s been so long since I’ve felt such a broken hug. The sobs. The gut wrenching, heart breaking sobs. What do you do? You stand in the middle of the high schools auditorium and hug as hard as you can, as long as she wants and you cry too. Because – It sucks. Gosh, my heart hurts today. As much as Sunday. More.
Everyone keeps saying how well the sister is holding together. No. No she’s not. You’re all just oblivious. She’s staying strong. She’s now the one to care for all of you. Her elderly parents. Her sisters family. The world is on her shoulders. She’s strong. She’s together. But maybe that’s because nobody has given her those arms to fall apart in. She messaged me later and thanked me. Thanked me for hugging her. Thanked me for just being there and being honest. I suggested we get together when she has time or when she simply needs to. Even if she doesn’t have the time.
Honest you ask – She told me it comes in waves and sometimes it hurts so bad while she sobbed. I simply told her I know. It’s awful. And it’s going to come in waves and be sad and hard forever. She replied I don’t want forever. I agreed. I don’t want forever either but the pain never leaves. You just learn to live with it. Then I mentioned she’ll always be here. Somewhere but I’d sure miss her loud crazy voice. She then laughed and asked if I realized how loud heaven got on Sunday. I can only imagine. Hug that baby tight Brenda and tell Miss Kira how much I miss her. Every day. Now you and Chrissy can cheer from the skies. And Becky. Oh my gosh. I do feel I’m missing the reunion of the year up there. I just selfishly wish it was here.
It is true. You learn to hurt. You learn to function with that pain. And somedays it hurts so fucking bad you wonder what in the hell. It becomes different. But it never goes away. That person never goes away. It’s a harsh reality. When you love someone so much they’ll always be there. You just have to learn to live with missing them.
I felt like I’d die after Jamie died. Truly felt like the world was ending. Someone once told me during that time – It wasn’t going to get better. It was going to hurt. Badly. But I’d learn to live with it. I appreciated that so much more than the time heals all bullshit and it’ll get better. Because trust me, when you’re falling apart and that better isn’t coming you really begin to question the world. It was easier to know it’ll always hurt, to quit waking up with hopes of feeling great and to just accept the hurt as normal. So now I always share that. Always. It’s true.
In the end – I’m sad tonight. Very very very sad. I miss my friends that have gone too soon a lot. I miss Brenda. I can’t believe it’s done. The end. She won’t be back. Never again. That’s my current struggle. Accepting the finality of it.
I hate covid. Hate it. For the record. She was a social distancing mask wearing. Covid doesn’t discriminate and it sure doesn’t care about your mask.
RIP friend. You hug everyone up there for me. Tightly. Immensely. Tell them we miss them. I’ll stay down here and help with your family and your kids. We will miss you but I know these kids are going to make you proud.
If only we could have one more day. If only.