What Now

Last night I stayed up late to sew myself a plague mask to wear at my best friend's funeral.

(Let's all take a moment to focus on that sentence, which in a sane world, would either be the opening line of a bad Gothic novel, or part of an overwrought MySpace entry from an emo kid trying too hard to be dark.)

Ok, ok, so a plague mask really isn't what it is, but nonetheless, that is what I spent last night doing before I went to bed. I'd actually cleaned out my fabric stash a while ago, but I found something appropriate. Nothing with unicorns or Star Trek insignia on it, at least. I had to make it by hand, because for the life of me, I've never been able to figure out my sewing machine. It wasn't great, and probably wouldn't need to be used, oh, and I had to hot glue part of it together, but desperate times and all of that, ya know?

This morning, as I was getting dressed to go, I kept wondering to myself what Sara would think of all of this. I can almost see her making that scrunched up face she always made when she thought something was funny. I kept hoping what I picked to wear she would have liked. I think so, but with her you never could tell. We didn't have the same taste in clothes.

I didn't order any flowers, so I went out and cut some of the tulips that grow by the mailbox. Only three of them were nice enough to take, but I think she'd like them. They were bright and showy, kind of like her.

It took a long time to drive to the cemetery, because one of the main roads into Athens had been closed, but I finally figured out where I was from old, hazy memories of driving around there back in the day and found the place. There were maybe 12 people there, only two of us were her friends. Funerals are really for the living, after all, and her dad needed the support.

From beginning to end, the service lasted about 15 minutes, and no offense to her father or the pastor, but I'm not sure it was her style. Hehe. She wasn't religious at all, so I knew she would have rolled her eyes at the bible reading. The preacher didn't know her at all, so he kept stumbling over everything he said. She would have liked what her sister said, though, but everything else she would have shaken her head at. I don't mean that to be cruel in any way, but I knew her so well. All I could think of was her standing off to the side with her arms crossed saying "I can't believe she wore that! That guy got my name wrong! Holy shit! What is this?!" I almost cracked up at the thought and literally had to hide a smile.  That wouldn't have done under the circumstances.  She was cremated, so there was only one little hole in the ground for us to stand around. It didn't seem like enough, somehow.

My flowers were the only ones there.

I also ended up giving her sister my mask to use at her job. At least the work didn't go to waste.

I wish I was eloquent, and could write something beautiful about her in the way other people can. Friends on Facebook have been so eloquent and kind, and I wish more than anything she could have known they felt those things about her. I'm not good at words, though. If I could show you my soul, you'd know what I am feeling, but I can't. So I'll just say this:

She never wore appropriate shoes. Ever. She had a great sense of style, but never a practical sense of footwear. I could have invited her hiking, and she would have shown up in a pair of wedge heels and then complained about her feet the whole time.

She was the one who made me get my eyebrows waxed before my own wedding. She wouldn't let me get married looking like Frida Kahlo. She was also the only bridesmaid I had that took me out before I got married. She took me to a dive bar where they thought we were prostitutes and I wouldn't change that memory for anything.

She could be such a brat! On our trip to Florida, I was going back into the Air B&B to check to make sure we didn't forget anything and she yelled at me that she had already checked and we needed to go. We ended up leaving about $200 worth of wine behind because she didn't want to admit she hadn't checked everywhere.

She had only just figured out how to draw her eyebrows on so that they didn't look fake!

Several people have reached out to me to tell me they were sorry she had passed, and they have all said the same thing: They said she loved me. Having people love you is humbling, isn't it? No one has to love us, or even like us much, so when you know someone loves you it should change something in us. Make us better somehow. I think I am better for our friendship. I hope everyone has the kind of friends that love them and make them better.

I could sit here all day and tell you little bits about her and maybe one day I will, but I think I'll just simply say that she was my friend, and in that word there are a million stories.

I am going to miss her so much. I'm going to carry her in my heart always.