Something to Be Remembered

A close friend posted this on her blog about me recently. I am not posting it here to flatter myself, but to remember the kind things she has said and to remember what is important in the future when I have a "bad day". This whole ordeal has been difficult, but I have been completely overwhelmed by the love and support so many have given me. I guess you don't realize how good your friends are, until they are there when you need them.

Thanks Noelle, for this beautiful post.

I often complain about the "bad days" when the car doesn't start, the alarm doesn't go off, the hair straightener burns my hand, my favorite jeans don't fit ...
you know...
those little moments of devastation that alter my demeanor, mood and behavior until I feel through anger, frustration or road rage I've rid my system of the unfairness that fell upon me.

And then, there are "bad days" in our lives when circumstance or decisions force us to tap into our inner resources.
Strength.
Faith.
Hope.
Endurance.

Resources running beneath the surface, wells we don't know exist until we're forced to drill in times of crisis.
Deeper.

And the scalding hair straightener and the ill-fitting jeans are put into perspective.
Having reason to be justified in anger, in frustration, in running everyone off the road.
I have a friend who in the face of crisis isn't any of those things.

She's hopeful.
She's tender-hearted.
She's forgiving.
She's kind.
She's devastated.
She's strong.
She's enduring.

We walked carelessly through the streets of Rome talking each night.
These evening jaunts, taken to balance our gelato consumption, gave way to hours of chatting.
About the smokers in Italy, the card game we just finished, the pizza we wanted, and sometimes our future lives.
One day we'd return to these enchanted streets with someone we loved, someone we could hold hands with. We had great company with each other but we hoped for something more.

Hope for good things to come.
Hope for love.
Hope for happiness.
Hope in an amethyst she loyally wore on her ring finger for 24 long months.

Hope realized when the purple stone was traded for a diamond.

But then the drilling began.
An exploration of depth.
And she struck gold - seemingly endless stores of kindness, forgiveness, charity, love, patience and dedication.
And when those resources were exhausted, she drilled again.

Drilling when loneliness encroached.
Drilling when disappointment took residence.
Drilling when future dreams were replaced with present nightmares.

She deserved every happiness in the world.
A karma cash-out.

Now she's making her own.
She's rebuilding without a purple stone. Without a diamond. Without everything that came with it.
With a fresh start. A new camera. A few pairs of shoes. And hope.

And in these moments of crisis she's discovered depth and resources- through personal discovery and providence.
And I admire from afar, not walking with her on this road.
I just hope that if and when I have to drill, I'll find half of what she did.