I am not sure when or why 8 became my favorite number, but it has been since I was a child. I like the way it looks and the way it sounds when you say it. Eight. There’s something strong about it, and I always picture it being the color of red, which happens to be my favorite color.
This year, or rather on this particular day, eight is not my favorite number. Not at all. On this day, eight years ago, my sweet friend, Michelle, died. Even though I have talked about and written about Michelle’s battle with breast cancer that ended with her death, seeing or uttering the words, Michelle died, still feels very surreal and unnatural. While the grief has changed in the past eight years, it is still there. It always will be.
I was fortunate enough to have Michelle in my life for 34 years, which sounds like a long time, but there’s never enough time to spend with people you love. And I love Michelle. I loved her then. I love her now. And I will love her always. I definitely am not the only one who feels that way, either, because in her nearly forth-eight years on this earth, she lit up the lives of countless people and changed us for the better.
Michelle demonstrated what it meant to be a loving, loyal, caring, and fierce wife, mom, daughter, sibling, and friend. Her laugh was infectious, her smile was beautiful, and her spirit was so bright. Whenever I think of her, which is pretty much every day, I always picture her healthy, happy, and smiling. Always smiling. I can still hear her voice and laugh and see her face so clearly. Sometimes, I find myself being in denial that she is not here physically. Then, reality returns, reminding me that she is gone.
I know that she is with all of us in spirit, but selfishly, that falls short. I do take consolation in knowing that her body is no longer being ravaged by cancer, and I try to tell myself that there’s a reason that everything happens. This is one of those days, though, when I just think that the reason sucks, and I wish Michelle still were here with us.
Michelle’s death and the deaths of my two other badass friends, Kristene and Jennifer, have taught me so many lessons that I am still uncovering and trying to learn. I have yet to put them together in eloquent words of wisdom, and I don’t know that I ever will be able to articulate these lessons of grief. Here, though, are some of them:
- Losing a friend can feel like losing a part of yourself.
- Memories can be both a source of comfort and pain.
- Grieving can be an isolating experience, and it’s important to reach out for support.
- Everyone copes with loss differently.
- Grief doesn’t have a set timeline.
- Love never dies.
While I am a reluctant student of these lessons, I am doing my best to learn and grow alongside this grief, to live an authentic and full life, and to honor Michelle as best as I possibly can. So, today, I think of my beautiful, sweet, and funny friend and smile through tears of happiness and gratitude that she came into my life and tears of sorrow that she left this world too soon. I love you big time, Mickey, and I miss you so very much!
That’s another story . . .
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That's Another Story 
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