My dad died on July 16, 2009, from complications of a spinal cord injury. The day before he died, he and my family were asked to contemplate our choices regarding his end-of-life care. His choice was to receive no medical treatment for his failing organs – he wanted to go quietly and on his own terms, and he did. I was 23 years old.
I think about my dad a lot around this time every year. But I think about you, too.
You were one of my best friends, and you weren’t there for me when I needed you. You gave me a lot of reasons why you couldn’t be, and I don’t know how many of them were true, but one of the things you said was that you couldn’t go back to that awful place. Your father died when you were too young, and his illness was too long, too painful. The wound was still too fresh, and to talk about it, to be there for me, would have destroyed you.
I hated you then. We both said cruel things, and then we went on with our lives, without our fathers and without each other.
I’ve a lot of time thinking about how July of 2009 played out. I’ve spent a lot of time hating you, and when the anger cooled, I spent a lot of time trying to understand.
In May of 2011, my best friend Melissa’s father died of cancer. I wondered – feared – dreaded – if you were right. Could I do this? Could I be there for Melissa in spite of my own fresh grief?
It wasn’t about me. It was about Melissa, her family, and what they were going through. I tried to be the best damn friend I could be, and I don’t know how well I succeeded, but we’ve both gone on with our lives, without our fathers but with each other.
You were wrong.
This post isn’t about you. It’s about Melissa, Krista, Simon, Rachelle, Maren, Mel, Rose, Amy, Ashley, Courtney, Erin, Laurelle, Charise, and every person who grants me the extreme privilege of calling them a friend. Feels are icky, compliments are difficult, and hugs make me nervous. But 7 years running, July seems to be a time of reflection. To my friends, who never hear this enough: I love you. You are awesome. Thank you.
oh geez what a time to take a sabbatical from tumblr! Thanks for pointing me at this post.
Yes, Cori, you did succeed. I would not have survived that year without you. These last few years, without my friends, would have been impossible. But seriously, I don’t know how I could have handled it without your constant support and your understanding. Where I had some friends who were MAD at me for not sharing my feelings of anger and frustration and sadness, you got that I had to try to stay strong and stoic. You cheered me up and let me be distracted. You helped me talk things through and didn’t make me hug when I wasn’t ready, and I wasn’t ready most of the time. I couldn’t cry because I had to be strong, even though I was so heartbroken and so sad and so devastated, and it was so nice to have a friend who totally got that. Who would be my friend even when I wasn’t there emotionally, who kept inviting me to stuff even though I said no for a very long, long time, and who kept in touch even when I didn’t.
Man.
Friends come and go. We’re all growing and changing and moving in and out of each other’s lives all the time. But sometimes you find someone that you just need to hold onto.
ILUSFM, CORI. <3 Thank you for being the best.