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| If I ascribed a landscape to my friend's perspective it would be this. |
A few weeks back I lost an old friend who had lived with cystic fibrosis her whole brave and beautiful life in this world. Yesterday was the proper funeral and that "ephiphany" moment. I realised I was standing amid an end of an era and I wasn't sad. Instead I was full of deep gratitude that I had been fortunate enough to have known her.
Though I still owe her endless batches of force-fed pink icing cupcakes to create happiness (and fatten me up) during a period in which life hit one of those pits and the universe conspired to have her move around the corner from me during that time. It'll have to wait until I catch up with her one day.
For now I just have to find some of my own people to cheer up via force feeding of pink iced cupcakes.
In all seriousness, I owe her more than cupcakes though. Aside from my best friend, who I was able to reconnect with a few years back, I never had anyone who actually listened to me, let alone understood even 10% of what passed through my mouth. My friend was an amazing supporter of my mental particularities. Though perhaps that was because she had the emotional range and empathy to cross two Earth's and still have enough love for a China-sized country of individuals.
Whatever the case, I often find myself in a crowd, people milling around like yappy sheep, asking those impersonal yet apparently obligatory questions and then finding the conversation stunted worse than the ridiculousness of weather conversations in 19th century novels that the writers often poked fun at. So why must we still do it? I've never understood why people do it. Is it some ingrained primodial action that proves to the other party you are not a threat? Perhaps. Yet people still do it.
Occasionally though, people branch beyond it and start chatting about their lives. Very few words were directed around about my friend, though my observations were not scientifically founded in perfection as I left the family members who were largely seated at various tables, in peace from my lurking. I do understand certain boundaries. I also need to admit here that though I have lost extended family, I've only ever been able to attend a celebration of life which was centered around remembering the deceased rather than an typical funeral which is what I attended yesterday.
Pre-service, during the service and he reception I had a growing sense of disassociation from the people present, my sole connection was a thread with my friend as her favourite song was performed and I watched her life smile by in the form of photos. It was the end of an era and I felt more whole and certain of my place in this world and who I was since way back when I was ten, and entirely sure I was going to be one half of an epic crime fighting duo. When you're ten and your best friend hasn't moved away, yet, the world is more your oyster for eating than for taking and hiding away in a bank account. Like adults do. Instead, I subscribe to the Peter Pan sydrome.
Was the experience ephiphany?
No. Definitely not. As far as my knowledge and experience goes, ephiphanies are what characters in books get because the writer needs to move the story along quick enough to prevent readers ditching it out of boredom. After all, the ephiphanies of real life apply more of a sneak ninja style or, transformation via slowly administered drugs.
In other words, ephiphanies are gradual realisations over time, except most people tend to put a lot of stock in the aftermath when you realise you had a realisation of some sort.
In my words, I had a fraether. Over at my Life Hacker's Dictionary you'll find the particulars of the defintion if you're curious.
But for those of you less curious, a fraether is simply a realisation that you can finally to look over the edge of a cliff without desiring to leap over the edge to probable death, or getting the look from people who think you might have done if they hadn't been shoving pink iced cupcakes in your face instead.
This past era wasn't true to me or my spirit but thanks to my friend, and the building blocks of enforced cheer plus numerous sprinkles from other meaningful persons, I have identified my confidence. I can thank the past era for getting me to this point where I feel I can head out and though I may not end up being one half of an epic crime-fighting duo, I will certainly end up being proud of my efforts to share my voice of creativity in order to help others find their own. I owe it to my friend to extend all thehands I can.
When was the last time you listened to someone and extended a hand (or regular cupcake visits)?
Humming her favourite tune, Hallelujah.
Moony.
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