Tag Archives: memories

live beautifully, hideously, stupidly and in the most epic manner

So in the last few months I have lost two very young friends to cancer.

I have had to learn some things in this process of loss. There had to be a reason, or an outcome from this grief. Of course the lessons could be a multitude of things but in the face of all this death I have learned something about myself.

“Terminal Cancer” means the end is inevitable. There is no cure.

Apparently my brain although accepting this truth, seemed to deceive itself into thinking this means later rather than sooner. So in essence I believed the disease was incurable but that didn’t mean they would die now…. It couldn’t happen now. I realised this in trying to figure out how I totally reeled from the news that they had passed. It was a shock. And I thought to myself that it shouldn’t have been a shock, I should have been prepared. Then came the guilt. oh my god, if only I had known how little time we had left (which I did) I would’ve visited/messaged/called more.

Denial. Ahhhhh. I didn’t want to believe my two very young friends would die before me. I convinced myself we had time. Incurable but without imminent death. The fact that I went through the death of one friend only to slip into the denial and go through the death of the second under the same veil of shock and in defiance of the true meaning of terminal, I have to ask why. Was I protecting myself? If someone else should tell me they have a terminal illness, will I face that honestly and admit what it really means or is my need to protect myself by sheer denial stronger than the lesson I have learned? Probably. I didn’t want to expect my friends to die. In all honesty I really didn’t want to watch them die. But they are gone. The one thing I can say is that I didn’t treat my friends like they were dying. I think they appreciated that. I hope.

I am angry because they won’t get to do the things they should’ve still done like travel, write a book, film a movie, perhaps marry, perhaps have kids, build a home. I realise I have these idealistic expectations of what they should have been able to do with their lives. My reaction after AJ died was to come up with a bucket list a mile long.

Then out of the blue reality set in. I may have wished wonderful things for my friends but realistically that life may have included a divorce, kids in rehab, retrenchment, critics, failure to reach goals, car accidents, horrid co-workers, horrible neighbours, debt and deaths of friends and family.

Ok. Stop. So am I glad they don’t have to go through the negative? Not really. I think they should’ve had all the up and downs that life has to bring. That is living. So the one lesson I am taking away from this, that may actually hold, is that I get to still have ups and downs and blessing and disasters, for which I shall be grateful. My bucket list is a great way to start doing things I want to do, but in between I know there will be heartache, and disappointment and despair. I intend living so damn hard. I shall love deeply knowing that I may hurt badly. I will set out on crazy adventures that may result in setbacks, injury, and disappointment. I will climb mountains knowing that I can fall, and if I do fall, so be it. Rosie and AJ won’t get to fall down a mountain.

I shall create a bunch of memories, good, bad, ugly and epic. I wanted my friends to have more life. All of it. With all its blessing and curses. I cannot let them down again. So excuse me while I make crazy decisions, huge mistakes, irresponsible choices. So I won’t have a fancy house, and a fancy car thank you very much…… an you will all have to excuse me while I walk to work greeting beggars and the mentally ill along with the rich and powerful. Excuse me while I choose to backpack some exotic 3rd world island with nothing but a prayer and a camera instead of buying a new wardrobe, excuse me while I love someone so deeply that it seems a tad unhealthy. Excuse me while I choose a calling rather than a professional career.

…… I’m going to live. However that comes.
Rosie, AJ …… I am going to live beautifully, hideously, stupidly and in the most epic manner. Remembering you always.

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the love

Once I fell in love madly. Love at first sight. We were flawed, with open wounds. We went our separate ways, searching for ourselves.

Once I fell in love slowly and steadily in a friendship that blossomed and grew. Two people finding out how to love ourselves and somehow in between our love entwined and created a bond.

I did not fall in love with two different people. I fell in love with one person twice.

I fell in love with crazy singing in the car, shared pizzas, running naked through waterfalls, sliding in mud. I fell in love with a person who wasn’t afraid of his dreams no matter how daunting, a person who challenges my insecurities, forces me to grow by leaping despite fear. I fell in love with the way he holds my hand, and laughs at me and with me. I fell in love with the way he doesn’t laugh at me falling over things that aren’t there, nor does he run to rescue me from my clumsiness, but rather how he just holds out his hand to help me up.

I fell in love with a mind speeding faster than mine, with a multitude of open google tabs, literally and figuratively. I fell in love with the way he says “I understand” and means it. I love the way he hugs me so hard I cannot breathe, the way he pulls me close when I lest expect it. The way he runs his fingers up my spine when he is standing close.

I fell in love with the quiet moments where nothing was said, but the silence didn’t matter. I fell in love with the way he gently brushes my hair from my face as I am falling asleep and the way he  calls me beautiful first thing in the morning and tells me my hair is “full bodied” when it in fact looks like a mini chewbacca is attached to my head.

I love talking about everything and nothing. I love the small things and the moments that are just ours. I love the way he forgives and tries to understand everyone rather than judge them.  

I am in love with my best friend.

 


A string of moments

I remember once, holding onto my past with all my might, wishing and hoping with every part of me that time would rewind, and the space in between would not matter, and life would pick up at a happy memory and go on the way I wanted it to.

I remember once, knowing without doubt, that I knew what should have happened, how it should’ve happened and what should not have happened and that everything that had occurred behind me was a grave mistake that the universe would undo once she realised the error of her ways.

I remember once, fighting against every new chance, every new opportunity, bathing myself in the old and lost and not forgotten, desperately clinging to an idealised movie of my past as though it was the only truth, enveloping myself in the bubble wrap of defiance.

I remember, deciding to let go and discovering that it could not be done in one moment but that it was a string of moments woven together by courage and hope that made possible a new path, a string of moments, both torturous and exquisite.

I remember, the moments that took me forward and the moments that took me back, swinging between the yearning of the past and the craving for the future, a string of moments that slowly began writing a new chapter I had not noticed I had began.

I remember the moment where I looked back and the past had become my history.

© Christie Marie Kruger 2013


Reflection 2013

In my reflection I see a million chances missed

a hundred frogs kissed

and in my eyes a thousand tales I will never tell.

A whirlpool of ideas my reflected mind dances unable to express.

Like moths around a flame,

a million and one directions, getting nowhere and finally being burned.

In my eyes reflected I see more pain and more joy than I remember wanting,

like emeralds they shine, childish and ancient memories,

thoughts and dreams in a split second of soul life. © Christie Marie Kruger


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