Heartache....

Heartaches come in all shapes and sizes.  There’s good heartache and bad.  There’s the smile of my 20 month old grandson that completely breaks my heart in two.  There’s the moment when your son tells you that he no longer wants to hug you goodbye at school.  There’s the moment when you realize your child has lied to you for the first time or the first time they tell you that they can’t stand you because you grounded them.  I’ve sent a kid to military school as punishment and cried for hours and hours after I dropped him off.  I’ve lost my father to an illness that could have been easily prevented and screamed at the chief of surgery because I couldn’t understand the fairness of it all.  I’ve been the victim of domestic violence and survived only to have a Judge tell me that I was required to subject my children to this horrible man twice a month.  I’ve suffered heartache - in small ways and in large ways.  I’ve been told I’m tough though I personally don’t think so.  I know some of my choices were more tough than others. I can look at all of these things and see the ones that were hard and the ones that were not so hard.  However, I cannot compare any of the previous aching that I’ve suffered to what happens to my heart every time I see her smile in my mind or hear her voice in my head.   If you’ve read any of my previous blogs you’ll know that my best friend, Bonnie, was killed in a car accident on August 7^th, 2010.  It’s been almost 2 months now and still I have moments that take my breath away because the heartache is so great.  Two nights ago I went to bed missing her so much I just laid on my husband’s shoulder and cried.  Not a hard cry - just a weepy soft cry.  Then last night I had a terrible nightmare where I was trying to reach her in a crowded room to tell her not to drive her car because there was going to be an accident.  She was across the room being her usual lovely self with friends and people wouldn’t get out of the way so she left and I woke up yelling for her.  It was devastating.  I don’t know quite how to process these moments.  I don’t know what behavior is acceptable.  I’m able to laugh and joke around with friends.  I’m able to kid around with my children and husband.  Then suddenly I find I want to scream to the world that Bonnie is dead and I won’t ever see her again.  Is that normal?  I don’t know.  I am addicted to pictures of her which kind of creeps my husband out.  I have her beautiful smile all over my house now and on my desk at work.  I constantly pull more up on my computer and just remember what we were doing at the time it was taken.  I talk to her on the way to work.  I suffered great loss before, but it was loss I could prepare for.  My grandfather was a great man who collapsed at my house but God still gave me another three weeks to be able to say goodbye to him.  My father became needlessly ill but I was given two months to prepare myself and tell him how much I loved him.  Nothing in the world prepares you for going on vacation with your best friends one week and then losing one of them just five days later.  It’s insane and I’m not sure that I can wrap myself around it yet.  I find myself wondering if she knew how much I loved her.   I can’t remember if I told her how thankful I was for her – although that was standard conversation on our little trips together.  What would I say if I had five more minutes?  I think this is at least part of it:  Bonnie:  You’re beautiful and crazy all at the same time.  You’re the most understanding, attentive, loveable friend I’ve ever had.  I’m so thankful that you’ve been there to give me good advice when it comes to my children.  I’m so thankful that you let me vent and cuss and say things I shouldn’t then you let me tuck it away and act like I never did it.  THANK you for loving me so much that you stood up for me even when you knew I was wrong.  Thank you for not always telling me when I was wrong because I know there have been many.  Thank you for all of the home-made gifts you’ve given me like my FBI badge, the beach ball, the hat, the pictures – gosh you put in a lot of time and effort just being my friend…  Thank you for laughing so much and making me laugh right along with you.  Thank you for coming into my life when you did and blessing me for so long with the type of friendship I never knew existed until I met you.  I love you.  I need you.  Please don’t leave me.  Life without you around will be gray….  

I know there is more to say – my mind just floods and then stops thinking altogether.  Today is not an exceptionally sad day.  I still have friends making me laugh.  But in the background – where I try my best to keep it – is that terrible ache that I’m not sure will ever go away.  It’s the ache that fills the hole in my heart that was once filled with her every day antics.  I miss you sweet girl.