Actions Speak Louder Than Words

     They often say "Actions speak louder than words", but I can't help but wonder; more so; if it's the lack thereof that speaks the loudest.

      You don't show love; you never speak of it. You don't show hate; you never speak of it either. You littarlly say and do nothing. Zip. Zilch. Nada.

      And yet the lack thereof (though silent) speaks; no,screams; louder than anything I have ever seen or heard before. 

      You cannot claim to be a product of your raising, because you were offered a way out time and time again. You were offered a saving grace and yet, you spit in the face of the very hand reaching out to you. Not with your words. Not with your actions. But, with you silence. With your breaking away. With you smug mockery .

        People often change. Circumstances, situations, difficulties are all things that tend to change us. It happens. But we decided how we handle this change. We may not decided what knocks us down, but we certainly do decide what keeps us down. 

       I lost a dear friend a long time ago. This friend was you. But not the "you" we know today. No, this was the "you" that rose above all odds. The "you" who didn't let anyone shatter their dreams. The "you" who dare not carelessly hurt the ones they love. 

       This version of "you" that we have come to know is sick, brittle, hurting, and unrecognizable. I look at you hoping to see a glimmer; perhaps a glance; of the person you used to be and I cannot find it. It's not in your eyes. It's not in your smile, that you try to fake so well. No, you (the real you) is no where to be found.

       For so many years we have all been hoping that you would come back to us. That you would prove those of us who had faith in you right and those who ever doubted you , wrong. But that's not the case. Infact it's the complete opposit. 

      I'm having to come to terms with saying goodbye. I'm having to come to terms with the fact that I'm saying goodbye to someone I no longer know. 

     If I would've known back then ; when you first lost your way; where things were going to lead, I would've said goodbye back then, 

     But today; right now; all I can do is sau goodbye to a memory. And all the while I still have a bit of faith in me that hopes you will prove many of us right. It doesn't matter how much or how little time you have left, please prove us right. Just this one last time. 

1 Year Later ...

     Vanilla Coke, The Marx Brothers, Monty Python and the Holy Grail; most anyone who knows me knows how much I like at least one of these three (if not all of them). Little do most people know, it was one person who had introduced me to all three many years ago. Most days I think nothing of it, but then there are days; days like yesterday where I was sitting at my desk at work listening to an old radio broadcast of a Marx Brothers skit and it hit me, the person who introduced me to one of my favorite things in the world, was no longer in this world.

       13 years ago I lost an 8 year friendship. Our friendship had been on the rocks off and on since we had known each other, but it was steady. Never had I ever thought we would stop being friends all together. The reasons are irrelevant ... and truth be told I'm not 100% sure why it ended in the first place (though I'm not sure if I forgot over time or if I ever knew, really). I remember the moment I knew it was over though. And the words I said afterwards have forever haunted me. It's neither here nor there whether I was right or wrong for what I said, I just never expected my words to be the defining moment of the end.

      That didn't stop me from trying,though. I tried several times. I was accused of being fake, maybe I was. Truthfully, all I know for sure was this was the first time I had ever experienced a friendship ending because of choice (those kindergarten "I'm not your friend any more" fights do not count. Who hasn't struggled with those?!?). After many failed attempts ,  I let it seem as if I no longer cared. But the truth is, I did. It's just that it was out of my hands. It killed me.

     Fast-forward 12 years from that moment, I was on the cusps of turning 28 (less than 2 months away) and found myself feeling as if I had lost a piece of my very being. I had learned in years prior that my "friend" had been diagnosed with with cancer. It saddened me, but because we had stopped talking years beforehand I did not know the severity of the illness. That is until a week before she passed.

     I found myself an emotional wreck. I felt helpless. I wanted to do something. I needed to do something. But there wasn't anything I could do. I tried to offer my comfort and condolences from afar but it was a moot point, and understandably so. Every moment I had I found myself saying a prayer for her and her family. I whispered her name in prayer at work, I spoke my prayers out loud in my car traveling to/from anywhere I went , went to the alter with determination and in the comfort of my room I was crying and pleading with God to spare her life. I found myself crying myself to sleep every night that week and even woke myself up many mornings with tears on my pillow.

    I didn't expect to be overcome by such emotions.  I expected to be sad should I ever have to cross that bridge, but I never expected the heartache (my heart and chest were literally in pain). I couldn't say I had lost a friend, because our friendship had ended so many years beforehand. But I had lost something; a piece of me. A piece of my childhood. So many jokes. So many secrets. So many split-second memories only we would understand. Pieces of me; that even though our friendship had ended; I had held onto. Suddenly I was the only one who held these memories.

    The morning I found out about her passing a crumbled into a ball on my bed crying my eyes out. I eventually pulled myself together and continued getting ready for work. I remained fairly quite that day at work , in fear of bursting into tears once again.

   She had made it just past her 27th birthday. She left behind a husband who loved her dearly (and still does) and a beautiful daughter- who may be growing up without her mother's presence , but not without her love. And a family that absolutely adored her.
 
   Here I am one year after her death and on the cusps of my 29th birthday. I am still learning to process her loss. I know that whatever disagreement we had over 13 years ago is irrelevant. I know that I must hold onto the happier moments of our friendship. I know that she is a hero in my book for so many reasons. I know that it's possible that I may never know why things ended up the way that they did (any of it) , but above all else I must hold on God and trust in him.