An unexpected trip Home

Michelle and I helping out at a wedding when we were teenagers. 

I flew home for my friend Michelle's funeral. The packing and planning easily distracted me from grief and pain. It hid in the back of my mind, but I ignored it.

It was easy to ignore on the flight as I held a precious, squirmy little girl for my friend. We landed late and were welcomed by loving parents. I crashed in the guest room, my sister's childhood bedroom. I slept and slept and was woken by the sweetest words an auntie can here.

"Yay! Missah's home!" my nephew Kender shouted, gleefully running around the house below my room. Home is the best medicine in the world.

Taking a selfing from my parents porch, which is one of my favorite views in the whole world.

Not only for the love and memories, but the familiar sights. Outside loom the majestic Olympic Mountains and towering fir trees, with greenery everywhere the eye can see. Then there are the smells! The scents of trees, dirt and water. I had forgotten how much I love it.

I comfortably slipped into my childhood. My parents took me out on a date Friday night. I sat between them and ordered a burger and lemonade. We went to the movies and had fun talking on the drive home.

Only that night, when I was alone in my room, did the ache squeeze out along with a fear for the funeral the next day. Thank you Ambien, for helping me sleep that night.

A page from an old scrapbook of Elizabeth, me and Michelle. 

In the morning, I lost myself in happy childhood memories. I thought a lot about her children and what Michelle and I did when we were their ages, writing them to share with her family. I wrote about the time we hid from her brother and Michelle smashed her knee on a slug. We couldn't get the slime off and my mom had to scrub it with peanut butter, ice cubes, soap, oil - anything we could think of until her knee was raw and pink. We laughed so hard we were crying at the ridiculousness of the whole thing.

At the funeral, I had a hard time resolving feelings of joy for seeing family and friends I've missed with the reason why were all gathered. I also now realize I was in a little bit of shock.

Since being home, I have less distractions to keep me from my grief of loosing my friend. It leaks out at the strangest times - driving alone in the car, reading stories to my boys, listening to music, browsing books in the library.

Inga, Me, Michelle and Elizabeth at Rachel's wedding. 

Last night I dreamt I was a teenager again along with all my friends. Waking up was hard to do. The grief has been leaking out of my heart and eyes all morning. What a strange, painful teacher grief is for us.