Last night was hard. I spent the evening at the Piper’s Kilt, a karaoke bar with a bunch of friends. With the holiday weekend, the place was packed. Still, I couldn’t help feeling an absence – my friend Stacy who passed away suddenly three weeks ago. I had been thinking about her earlier in the day, about something she would’ve loved, and she really stayed on my mind the rest of the day.
While at the Kilt, I started looking through some of my old text messages with Stacy. More than most anything, I think this really reminded me of what I lost. Stacy had been my friend, my big sister, and she taught me everything I knew about being a woman. As I watched her progress rapidly with hormone therapy, I felt like I was following in her footsteps but would never quite catch up. Instead, one of the last messages I’d gotten from her was how she felt that HRT was doing wonders for me, too. It was an approval I’ve been seeking for a long time.
Doc was there for me when I lost Stacy. Helping me through the worst of it, she picked me up after work the day I found out Stacy died, then let me stay at her house. She explained to me the Jewish belief of why it is that people leave us young. She said that sometimes, people are put here to accomplish something, and that task can be as simple as a single breath for a baby.
That day, I’m not sure I was really ready to hear that – to me it felt as if we were meant to experience pain as part of life, getting to know someone and grow to love them, to have them torn away from us, and be left to grieve. In this case, it was grieving without the one person who could really get me through it. It also meant that I couldn’t feel anger over her death. There is nothing but some greater plan to blame, and if there truly is that plan and reason, then there is also something better hereafter.
Now, I’ve come to find meaning in that simple statement, something which has helped me find peace with losing Stacy. Stacy meant so much to me in life, and it helps me to know how happy she had finally become as well. It is a tragic loss for me, I will be hurt for a long time realizing that Stacy is out of my reach, that I can’t really talk with her anymore, but she did accomplish something. Not just things for her own life, instead, for my life, and that of so many others as well.
I love you, Stacy, and I miss you, hun.