I used to think that life was precious. I understood that it was a delicate thing that can be gone in any moment. I've attended funerals of the old and sometimes the very young. But today I was reminded just how precious and fleeting it is. Tonight I received a call from my best friend. I couldn't make out much that she was saying. All I could make out between the gut wrenching sobs I was hearing was "I need you.... Kaiser...Emergency Room." That was all I needed. I drove 100 the whole way and prayed that nothing was wrong. That this call was just something that would work itself out. Deep down inside I knew it was different. I knew something was seriously wrong.
I pulled in located the Emergency Room. I found my friend's cousin first. I asked what was wrong. He said, "Beth is dead. She's dead." I didn't believe him. I thought it was some sick joke he was playing. Then I saw AJ's dad and realized it was no joke. I finally managed to find AJ sitting on the tailgate of her dad's truck in the parking lot, her sister next to her crying through her drunken stooper, "I want my mom I want my mom." Tragedy finds us in all states and times of our lives inconvenient or not it just is.
I didn't know what to say or do. All I could do was hug people. Words were suddenly the most insignificant thing. They pulled out. I went back into the emergency room, for what I'm not sure. I wanted to say goodbye I guess. I made it to the entrance of the room and saw her feet from under the surgical drape and realized that I couldn't go further. I turned around. That was not the last image I wanted in my head of Beth.
Beth was a beautiful woman. She was full of life despite her chronic pain and back injury. She was always happy to see you when you came in. She always missed you when you were gone. Once you walked into her home you were one of her children. That's just the way she was. She was a person who loved and took care of people as much as she could even if it meant giving you the shirt off her back. She loved her crafts and her quilts. There was much thought and care that went into her gifts and her relationships. She loved her girls VERY much and her husband even more.
After leaving the hospital I drove to AJ's house. I called my own mother to let her know what was going on and to tell her that I loved her. I arrived at the house. There were people outside and inside. Family members and dear neighbors. It was hectic at first. I ended up in the living room sitting beside AJ hugging her, getting water and tissues, and sobbing right next to her. There was even a little bit of laughter. There were some get well balloons that were promptly popped and thrown away. I sat down for a second on a sofa and grabbed a blanket. Beth's favorite blanket....
I was very blessed to have met AJ and her Mother. She treated me as one of her own from the moment in my sophomore year of Highschool when AJ brought me home to hang out. She helped me laugh through my teenage years and helped me work through things that I wasn't comfortable discussing with my own mother. Beth always understood, never judged and was always there to talk, cry with, or just to hang out and watch a movie with. I spent many hours at her kitchen table or at her bedside talking and laughing and joking. I will miss her so very, very much.
I finally left to let AJ and her family have some space and to be honest, I needed some time to myself to process. I still wanted it to be a joke. I still expect her to be there the next time I call or come by to see AJ. The hardest part is going to be going back to daily life without her there. She was one of a kind work of love who shared herself with everyone around her. I love you Beth and I miss you.
~Z~
