Each day I wake up the sun beams a little brighter. My heart is starting to heal, its been two months since I lost Charlie. Two long months. I haven’t been myself, casting fake smiles and half-hearted hellos in the direction of friends. I have been living in memory land, a land where Charlie is still alive. Hurt has taught me to hold on to the past, my heart says “Let go.” Let go of what was and what will never be. Free yourself and set your heart on fire.
I loved Charlie more than life its self and I know deep down that he would want me to find my way. That he would not want me to hold onto a broken dream. I can hear his voice say “AJ put your big girl pants on and walk my friend, walk right into the sun. You are stronger than you realize and you my love deserve the world.” Charlie uttered those words to me on nights I doubted myself or days in which I thought the world was ending. He’d just rub my curly hair and say “You worry more than you hope. Try a little hope babe. It will do you good.”
Faith in God is allowing me to heal and knowing that I have an angel cheering me on keeps me humble. I can feel Charlie with me plain as day, I know that he is urging me to find my way. Letting go is easier said than done. But with each breath and each step I take I am moving on. The pain is starting to fade and I am starting to believe again. Each day is a chance for me to build a new life, a new memory, and a chance to fill my heart will love.
Lately I have spent a lot of time alone and dared to let my mind wonder why. Tears fall silently into the Muppet’s fur and then there are moments where I burst out in laughter for no reason. Life isn’t suppose to be this way. We are supposed to fall in love, have babies, and grow old together. For the first time in years I let myself feel and believed in something called love. I held out hope that it would turn out all right and trusted the fact that he would never be like my ex husband.
Charlie knew I was broken and that he was taking on more scars than one soul could handle. Yet he would shoot me a smirk and take my hand during the moments of doubt. He called me late at night to tell me “Hey beautiful, just wanted to remind you that you are amazing. Don’t forget that.” Sometimes he would tell my voicemail a story or just talk about his day. Knowing full well that the voice mail symbol would bring a smile to me in the morning. He had faith in me and allowed me to just be. Charlie didn’t try to heal my scars, or swaddle my fears, he just simply let me be. Why others tried to give me answers, he gave me hope. Hope replaced my fears and allowed me to dream again. Dream of a place where love lived.
Late nights were spent with board games and conversation. Charlie never asked me about my failed marriage, my stroke, or my son. He told me once “I don’t need to pry. I have faith that when you’re ready you will tell me everything.” Those moments came and the man was left in awe. Bit by bit I revealed myself to him and under the brightness of the sun my secrets became exposed. I stood there before him with nothing more than my soul, vulnerable, and afraid. He just threw his arms around me and said “Babe all we need is a little hope and we’ll be all right.”
Charlie was full of hope. Hope for our future and that our lives would be more than perfect. It’s funny how one persons inability to move their car from the freeway brought that hope crashing down. Charlie’s death will remain fresh as I shake my head and wonder “Why?” I can live with the fact that it was an accident. However I can’t live with the notion that it was preventable. Had they taken the extra steps no one would have had to die that day. Charlie didn’t die alone, that one accident claimed the lives of five people. Five beautiful people that mattered to someone out there. I hold out a tiny shred of hope that the Judge will make those two idiots pay for their mistake. Rest assured I will be sitting in the courtroom on the day the sentence is handed down.
Hope is what gets me through the hard moments and allows me to dream. Charlie would want me to have a little hope and to believe in a better day. A day where the pain fades and all of this will make sense. I didn’t get to grow old with him, yet I got to spend 16 of the greatest months of my life with him. In the end that’s all that matters. That for 16 incredible months our friendship grew into love, and that love allowed us to have a little hope for a beautiful future.
I got a text message this evening from a former coworker and as I read it I had no pity for the man. He was upset that my old firm had hired someone else on and passed him over. I asked “Did you apply for the position?” He said “No I didn’t even know they were hiring a case assistant.” There you go, I said. You let this opportunity pass you by. If you want to work at the firm as a real employee and not a contractor you need to apply. You are not above anyone else and you just like everyone else needs to go through the application process.
As of late there seems to be a reoccurring theme. People feel that things should just be handed to them on silver platters. Silver platters rarely come around in the real world and silver spoons if you’ve got one hang on to the damn thing. Nothing gets handed to us in this world. The haves got what they have because there worked their ass of to get it. An well the have-nots kept on hoping for that silver platter. I am not one to sit around for a silver platter and believe that in the end hard work always pays off. I am a fighter. I choose to work like I’m broke, live like I am dying, and dance like no one is watching.
Work, is something I crave. It keeps me humble and reminds me that I am no better than my fellow-man. People say I am lucky because you can barely tell I had a stroke. Truth of the matter is, I get Botox to tighten up the left side of my face and to stop the nerve pain. During therapy they told me it was going to be work. That I would have to work hard to get myself back to where I was. An that’s what I did. I pushed through the pain, cried my tears, and now I stand proudly as a survivor. Now I encourage others to veer away from my fate and teach thousands how to live heart healthy. If anything I have to fight harder to prove my worth, to prove that I am more than just a survivor. I work ten times harder and push further to prove that I am worth more than my pay check. Mostly I work my ass off to prove to myself that I am still capable. To prove to myself that I am more than a statistic.
Charlie use to giggle at me because every morning before I leave for work I say to myself “I am AmandaJean and no one else is better than me. I am the best!” Each morning I have a pep talk with myself and let my worries float away. If you are not at the top of your game you can be easily knocked down. Hell, I even give attorney’s pep talks before they head into trial. Pep talks are something I give myself on my way to work, every time I step on a stage, and head into a politicians office. I believe in myself and I believe in my ability to produce quality work.
It doesn’t matter what you do or how good you are. If you never put your fingers to the keys and fill out an application. You will never get that job. I had so many firms tell me no. I never gave up and in the end it paid off. I love my current firm and enjoy what I am doing. I had to work a few crappy jobs and fight my way to the top before I could bask in the sun. The fight was worth it and the crappy jobs taught me beggars cannot be choosy. The legal field if you are not careful will eat you alive and spit you out faster than you can spell Mississippi. You just need to be the chewer and not the chewee.
Truth: I am a chewer. If you do not do everything within your power to change the room your standing in then I do not want to hear you complain. Complaining is for people who know deep down that they did not take the right step to create change. They are the ones who wave goodbye as opportunity passes them by and they wonder why there unhappy. Reach, dream, and for God sakes make the change you need to become a better you. Stand on that soap box, toot your horn until someone takes notice and offers you what you’ve been looking for. Until you do that your room will be dark and the walls will close in. Close in until you realize that you’re six feet under and life completely passed you by.
In the weeks after Charlie’s death close friends and family started to ask: “Were you and Charlie more than friends?” The truth of the matter is yes. Yes Charlie and I were more than friends. For a short while my life fell into place and I was happy. Charlie would tell me “AJ I am going to make an honest woman out of you.” I would just look at him and giggle. Hearing him say that made me feel like we were living in some sort of sin or even doing something illegal. It was his way of saying ” I am going to marry you babes.” Weddings were something we talked about often. I told him that I was going to do it my way this time around. That I wanted a gown with a vintage feel, pie instead of cake, and a dance that lasted until the wee hours of the morning. Charlie said that sounded beautiful.
In October the beauty began to fad. I was spending more nights at the firm than with Charlie. Charlie was always out-of-town on business, so the nights he was here were special. I traded those special moments for a cube and a job that would never amount to anything. A week before Thanks Giving Charlie gave me a small pot of gold. Looking at him confused I asked “What the heck is this?” He said to me “AJ you are the pot of gold at the end of my rainbow. You mean everything to me and with out you my life has no meaning. You make me feel, believe, and you love have taught me how to live. An I, I can’t live without you.” Tears started to flow, I threw my arms around him, and whispered I love you into his ear. Those were the sweetest words I have ever heard and my heart melted into the floor. In that moment I was his and nothing else mattered in this world.
Yet, work still mattered more than Charlie. Charlie could see I was giving my job my all and watched the passion seep out of my personal life. I often felt like a hamster running in a wheel and went through the motions. One morning Charlie asked me to look at the sunrise. That morning I was too sick to look at the sunrise. I could barely move, yet I mustered the strength to throw a dress on and head into work. That night he brought me to the ER and that’s when we got the news that my kidneys were going hay wire. That I had basically worked myself into the ground and needed a break. I never took a break. I worked through the pain, the nausea, and pretend like everything was fine. On the inside I was a mess. Charlie and I got into a huge fight. He was tired of me putting the firm first and my health second. Charlie decided to walk away that night. He told me “Give me a call when you find yourself again.”
A two solid weeks went by without word from him. I figured he had walked away from me for good. That is until one night I had a knock on my door, on the other side stood a teary eyed Charlie. I threw my arms around him and whispered “I do” into his ear. He held me tight and began sobbing on my shoulder. Charlie had decided to put NYC behind him and make a life in Minneapolis. He got a job at one of the downtown firms and was ready to make an honest woman out of me. The next day when I woke up from a nap I felt something on my finger. Looking up Charlie was beaming as he sat on his coffee table. He could barely contain himself he asked me “why do you have a ring on your finger?” What are you talking about I said. I looked down and there it was a pink and yellow diamond engagement ring. Charlie got down on one knee and asked “AJ will you be my wife?” Sobbing and grinning I managed to eek out a yes. That night melted into weeks of bliss. The dominos of my life were lined up across the floor like little soldiers. I had the job I always wanted, a man who stood beside me, and I was on the way to getting better. Funny how life swaddled us into a calm and quenches our fears with love. With one small breath, my dominos fell to the floor.
On Valentine’s day Charlie was in a terrible car accident and he would never wake up. Charlie passed away a few days later. I never got to say I do instead I got to say goodbye. I sat there in the church rubbing the ring on my left hand. Part of me hoped if I rubbed hard enough a genie would pop out and I’d get to wish Charlie back. It was wishful thinking, yet I held out hope that this was a dream. My dream was a nightmare and all I wanted was Charlie to tell me it was going to be ok. I have faith that he is still with me and that he will always be with me. There are moments when I burst out in laughter for no reason or at suddle reminders of Charlie. A recipe, TV show, and so many other things bring the memories flooding in. I enjoy the flood and sometimes cry into my pillow at night. Cry because I reach out and the only thing I feel is the muppets furry little head. I long to have him laying next to me and to have him whisper his plans for our future into my ear. Sometimes when I wake up from a nap I squint my eyes in hopes that I’ll see Charlie watching me sleep. I never do, yet when I listen to my heart I hear his voice.
Honor is something he would adore. Charlie always wanted to have a little girl. I don’t blame him he grew up in a family of six boys. He told me once “if we have a boy I am going to send him back. I only want a daughter and we are going to name her Charlotte Rae.” I would tease him and let him know that I didn’t like that name. In truth I adored the name Charlotte and loved the fact that he wanted to name our daughter after himself. So that is how I am going to honor the man I cherished, one day a little girl name Charlotte Rae will walk this earth. An I know that Charlie will be smiling down on her from heaven.
Have Bear Will Travel 