10 years – She’s been gone for 10 years –
seems impossible somehow.
Remembering her now – boohooing the whole time.
Carol was an instant friend, a heart / soul friend – someone that I recognized would always be in my life – part of my family of peeps with whom I would navigate life with, witnessing each other’s lives –
She was a big personality – what might be more accurate actually is that her ‘being’ was big and her personality reflected that largesse –
packaged in a tiny body.
She was funny – hilarious actually, the best giggle girlfriend you could ever ask for – snorting giggles, giggles that grew into full blown squeals and screams –
You could always count on laughter when Carol was around.
Laughter and dancing.
Laughter, food, more dancing –
although after babies it seems to me there was less dancing and more food – but the dancing vibe never disappeared.
Since she passed, I laugh and dance considerably less.
For the longest time I would reach for the phone to call her to share something – having to settle instead for an imaginary conversation with her in my head – which I still do occasionally, all these years later.
I miss her, her presence, her big, beautiful being –
I miss our relationship and doing the things we did together, the deep dive discussions we would have – going from serious to silly back to serious again without skipping a beat
I feel her absence in my life and the richness she brought to it.
The light that shone through the prism that was ‘Carol’ revealed a big open hearted soul who loved to laugh and dance and eat and hang out with her family of friends. It revealed an intelligent, funny, compassionate, loving, adventurous (in her own way) soul, committed to making the world a better place, especially for women and children.
All this memory mining brings her to me in a deeply felt way, and I find myself wondering where she is now –
I see her and I sitting closely having tea … lemon balm and mint with honey – giggling as we watch a young girl maybe 8ish – dancing in the sunlight with a stick, completely immersed in her imaginary world. I want to say her name is Simone – at one point she stops dancing and looks directly at us, as though she sees us watching her through the veil that separates us. She waves, then continues her beautiful, carefree sun dance.
Carol sitting next to me gives me a long hug and a smooch, then disappears – having shown me that she is still dancing in her new life –
forever a dancing queen.