Dear Mike
Last night, I had yet another one of my rough sleepless nights. The kind of night where surfing helped me remain grounded in the present and not let me descend into the quick sand of emotional turmoil. I read until exhaustion set in and I surrendered to the comfort of my bed. While there, I stared at the glow in the dark stars I glued to the ceiling. ItÂ’s one of the things that I miss of living overseas, looking up to see a blanket of stars light up the night sky. I remember as a little girl spending hours looking out the window identifying constellations and seeing what other figures I could make out in that brightly lit sky. In that sleeplessness I missed you greatly, as I always do in those quiet early morning hours. As I lay there, I searched for why this sadness had been coming on so slowly since the afternoon. After all, nothing interesting had occurred at all.

As I reviewed the day, I began to get a glimpse of what might have made me think of you. I had scheduled my day so that I could tune-in and take notes during the last 90 minutes of the womenÂ’s marathon. I made a point to watch because IÂ’ve been thinking of fulfilling the promise we made to each other of running the NYC Marathon at least once in our lifetime no matter what happened. Suddenly I remembered what triggered my sadness. It was seeing the Kenyan woman, whose teammate was running behind the crowd, cheering her on, as he kept pace with her. The memory of you doing the same for me during my first 15k, just when I was struggling and thinking about quitting, as I neared the finish line... it came flooding back to me as if we were there.

ThatÂ’s when a little gasp escaped my throat and the realization weighed so heavily on my heart and soul. The deluge of silent tears quickly began to fall, coming as if they had been ready for some time. All I could do, was hug my pillow tightly around my face so as to muffle my load uncontrollable sobs.

There are times that I wrestle with the fact, that had I gone on that morning's training run like you and Larry wanted, you both might be alive today. But then I realize I'm only lying to myself. No matter where you were or what you were doing you still would have gone up, into the bowels of hell to help others.

Eventually, exhausted from my emotions and the late hour, the room became quiet again. I was finally able to think of the kind but firm words you used to say to me whenever I wanted to give up on anything. The words you told me that day during that race that not only made me finish, but helped me finish 3rd. Through our 15 years of friendship, you never, ever let me give up. I so miss my cheering section, of which you were the head cheer leader.

Last night I would have given anything to have you, my best and oldest friend, back amongst the living. Towards the early morning hours I pinned my hopes that you were on one of those far off stars I often look at through my telescope. I guess since they never found you, I'm still hoping against hope that one day I'll be able to have that last goodbye. Where I could hold each and everyone of you very tight and tell you all that "I'll love you forever".

This morning, tired and yet even more exhausted from not having slept at all, I just felt grateful for having had you all in my life during the years that you were here.

Posted by: Michele at 10:30 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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