They say a lady knows when she is ready to move on. She knows when to let go of the past and walk into her future with an open heart. She knows how to love like she is dying because the one who had her heart died loving her.
Our lives are nothing but moments. Most of the moments are trivial, however there are the ones that impact our lives so greatly we are forever changed. When that impact hits us we will never walk the same course again. We can dream about what was, we can long for it, but at the end of the day what was will never ever be again. I have come to realize this over the past 7 months, that my life will never be the same.
Over the past three years I have encountered several moments of impact, my blood clot tought me how to survive, the death of my child and the end of my marriage made me into the woman I am today. Those moments were filled with trial and tears, yet those are the moments that changed the course of my life. They charted the course for my life to collide with Charlie.
Collide is what we did. Charlie renewed my faith, taught me that love was more than just a word, and that life was a dream worth fighting for. I have enough memories to keep me company for a lifetime. While I am remembering Charlie, a young man in New York will alway be haunted by the moment he chose to get behind the wheel while drunk. His moment of impact changed the course of his life and that of five families forever.
Because of this man I am not able to say I do, instead I got to say goodbye. That day my dream ended. That day a part of my heart broke and I am afraid it will never be repaired. Justice tells us that he must pay for his crime. Is there really a punishment big enough for someone who took a life, who carelessly turned the key and drove down a freeway drunk. No there is not, if you ask me no there is not. Because for the rest of my life I have to live knowing that he is alive living his life, while my fiance is six feet under. That one day this man may get married and have children of his own, his life will go on once the prison door is opened, it will go on.
Charlie’s life ended that day. He dreamed of having a baby girl named Charlotte Rae, that dream died the moment his heart gave out. One decision, one moment of impact ended all of his dreams. He dream of being the first Native American to sit on the Supreme Court, he dreamed of a better day for his people. He dreamed of a better day for farmers and small business owners. He dreamed so big that those he left behind are stepping up and ensuring that his people will see a better day. That some day a Native American will sit on the bench, and see that large ag businesses will toppel and give way to the family farm.
That man sitting in a prison cell may have taken Charlie’s life, however he will not kill his dreams. Because Charlie’s dreams were bigger than the life he lead. Mostly because that young man will never know a man like Charlie, he will never love like he did, care like he did, or give like he did. Because Charlie was one hell of a man and I thank God every day that I collided into his life for a little while. I can live the rest of my life knowing that one man loved me until his last breath, his last moment of impact.
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.
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.
It’s funny how time soothes our souls and slowly heals our wounds. I all most didn’t realize what today marked. A day that I would never forget. It was a day that women long for. I remember standing in my bathroom watching the hour-glass spin on the EPT. Part of me had hope and part of me was preparing for a “not pregnant” to pop up. It seemed like hours had passed, I didn’t want to look. To my surprise the test screen said “pregnant.” The test dropped to the floor, shaking I smiled slightly, and thought “finally my calm has come.” I showed the test to Scott, he was over joyed, his eyes filled with tears. Tears because we had just conquered the impossible. In that moment we were happy, the cheating and the lies they didn’t matter. Because now two had truly become one.
Calls were made to the doctor, since I got pregnant just months after my P.E. I was considered high risk. The doctor told us it was a long shot, and that time would tell if the warfarin sodium had done any damage to the baby. We had a 50/50 chance of bringing a baby into this world. To me those were good odds so I started the twice a day Lovenox injections and a crazy low vitamin K diet. I started showing right away, there was no hiding the fact that I was with child. My baby belly to me was a symbol of survival and my way of saying Fuck you nuva ring, I made it. Morning sickness never came, sleep was something I couldn’t get enough of, and cravings were plentiful.
The doctors said our child had a strong heart beat and that he was a fighter. The first time I saw him I fell in love, that was my child on the screen, and there was no greater gift. They talked about the odds of a blood clot forming, they told me the baby could be born Lovenox dependant, and that I could bleed to death during child-birth. Bleeding to death is not how I wanted to go, so a C-section was planned, and it was decided that our son would be born early. Being born early would be best for both baby and mommy.
While I was busy planning and dreaming of what was to come, my body was brewing up a different plan. It was the Tuesday after Mothers Day, I sat in the waiting room and looked around at all of the swollen bellies. My name was called and into the ultra sound room we went. The tech fumbled with the wand, minutes went by, and she just kept clicking on the key board. She sat their in silence adjusting the colors on the screen, soon she got up and walked out. That’s odd I thought, she came back with one of the doctors. He stared at the screen with her looking as the colors changed. He coldly said “there is no heart beat.” At first I couldn’t comprehend what he was saying. He explained to me that my son had died, that my baby was dead. He told me, “I’m so sorry for your loss. it’s probably for the best.” He asked if I wanted to talk about the options. I said no and stormed out of there.
Stormed off to the Prius as I put the key into the ignition the tears began to fall. I placed my hand on my belly and dared to ask why. I could barely dial the phone, when my Mom answered all I could muster was "Aloucious died." My Mom, she was trying to hold back her tears, she said "I'll call your Dad. I went home to an empty house, Scott was in Vegas, I tried calling him but he didn't answer. I barried myself in bed, I didn't want to face the world. I wasn't ready to lose my child. The door bell rang and standing at the door was my Father.
All I could do was cry as he wrapped his arms around me and held me tight. He said to me "I don't know why this happened. We just have to have faith." I stood there in his arms crying, my whole world shattered around me. He told me to get dressed and took me out for breakfast. I could barely eat and didn't want to face the world. The rain fell softly as we walked to the car I asked "Dad can we bury Aloucious under a birch tree?" Of course he said, yes we can, why don't we go look for one now. We strolled through the nursery lot for a few hours looking for the perfect tree to place my son under, a tree that would have deep roots and strong branches. We didn't find the perfect tree and now cold from the rain I just wanted to go home.
Home is where I was when Scott finally called. I had asked him to come home, to be with me. He told me "no." I was crushed the man I needed most had failed me and left me standing alone. Alone to make decisions about our son. After talking to a nurse about my options it was evident that I would not go into labor on my own. I needed surgery. Sherri she had left work early and sat by me in the waiting room. As I went back to surgery I gave her my wedding rings to hold on to, she had tears in her eyes as she said "see you in a bit." The nurses told her the procedure would take about 40 minutes. 40 minutes melted into an hour and that hour melted into two. Soon she was told that I was out and in recovery. My ordeal, my son was no longer a part of me. I was now a mother to a baby in heaven.
I was angry, sad, and frustrated. I went through the phase where I thought my son's death was my fault and often thought maybe I wasn't good enough to be a mom. That maybe this was God's way of showing me that he didn't have faith in me. I was angry and scared. No one I knew had gone through this before. Babies just don't up and die. There had to be a reason and we would have to wait two long months for the results.
As I waited the anger started to fade, grief slipped into every day life, and I slowly started to feel a live. One thing was certain something had to change. I needed to re-evaluate my marriage and the man I called my husband. It was hard for me to fathom that Scott didn't care enough about me to get on a plane. Vegas and Ultimate Electronics were more important than his grieving wife. This was my moment to reclaim myself and to fight for what I wanted in this world.
An that I did, in June I walked away. I was done and I had nothing left to give. Two months slowly passed and the answers I had been waiting for were ready. Just like before I walked into the doctor's office alone. The nurse asked if Scott would be coming. I told her no, I left him about two weeks ago. We are getting a divorce. Oh, she said. "Well some marriages can't survive the death of a child hun." I just looked at her and said "my son gave me the strength to walk away from a man who cheated on and lied to me. He had nothing to do with my leaving or our demise." She just looked at me. The doctor came in and told me "AJ, I wish I had more to tell you. Your son was chromosomally perfect and well, we have no idea why he died. His little heart just stopped. It happens hun." That's all I needed to hear. My son was perfect. My beautiful boy was perfect and I was proud of that.
Time heals the heart. At first I didn't want anything to do with babies. Swollen tummies made me retreat and I cried behind closed doors. Friends walked on egg shells as they announced their pregnancies and shot me half smiles. Half smiles turned into hugs. Babies are a beautiful part of this world and I have faith that one day I will get to say hello instead of goodbye to my child. Goodbyes are hard, yet it gave me more strength than I could ever imagine. Maybe I am lucky because now I have a little me in heaven. A son that is always with me. I can feel him in the breeze. Sometimes I let my mind wander and wonder what he would be like today. Would he have my curly hair, his dad's eyes, and I just hope he'd have my intelligence.
Shortly after Aloucious death I got a tattoo on my right foot. Because of the blog we nicknamed him little bear. So it was only fitting that I get a tattoo of four small bear paws. Two paws are red and black those were Scott's favorite colors. The other two are pink and orange which are my favorite colors. The tattoo artist thought it was a lovely tribute and as I told him my story his eyes filled with tears. He told me that he was glad to be in the presence of one hell of a fighter. I smiled and winced a little as the needles pushed into my skin. Now when I look down I am reminded that Aloucious is always with me and that I made it though hell. Hell because in 10 short months I survived a stroke/P.E. child loss, and had the strength to walk away from a man who would never love me. Strength that I gained when I carried my child and walked through his death alone.
May 12th will be the second anniversary of my son's death. Someone told me once: "You never get over the death of a child. You, you just learn how to live with it." That person was right. I will never be ok with Aloucious being gone. However I have learned to live with it. Maybe it's because I am getting older and a tad bit wiser that I can be at peace with his death. Indian people believe in cherishing the life and honoring the spirit that lived within. A birch tree was planted in Aloucious honor and one day Sophia will be old enough to play under its branches. She will feel the warmth of her cousin surround her and his story will seep into her heart. I just hope that this birch tree will be the only one I plant in the memory of a child. My heart can only handle one birch tree. Maybe one day I will get to sit under that birch with Aloucious' brother or sister in my arms.
Babies are God’s way of letting us know he still has faith in the human race. Faith that each child is a fresh start and a chance to change the world.
I have no doubt that Sophs will change this world one day.
Not every little girl gets to have an Auntie who steps up to the plate and helps her parents out. Indian people believe that raising a child is a community effort. Thats probably why I have 14 God children. Sophia will be my 15th and I couldn’t be more honored. Honored because I get to watch this beautiful little girl grow, guide her, and help her find her place in this world.
I fear that she will associate Target with her Auntie. An she’ll greet me like this: “Hey Auntie. Hi. Can we go to Target.” I know its gonna happen. Her little face lit up when we strolled down the isles. She will be a Target girl and sadly probably a little purse obsessed too.
Sophs is all ready spoiled. However on the same coin I want my niece to be humble. To revel in the sun and to never get lost in this world. She will know how to play in a mans world and how to stand on her own. Sophs will dream big and know that anything is possible as long as she believes in herself. She and she alone is the key to her success. An as a family it is our duty to help her pick that lock, rip the door down, and shoot through the glass ceiling. Nothing, nothing on this earth will knock Super Sophs down.
Divorce taught me that I have the right to be picky and not to jump at the first man that walks through the door. It taught me that I matter and that some day I will find a man who realizes that I am worth it. I learned to hold out and not to give in just because someone calls me beautiful. Words speak softly, actions shout I love you to the world. I want a man who speaks with his actions and whispers to my heart.
My mind speaks softly on nights that are a little to lonely. I still hear the ex-husbands voice in my head when my pants feel a little to tight and when my hair doesn’t look just right. He’d say “those don’t look good on you. God you’re getting fat. Or I like your hair straight.” Tears softly fall to the floor when those thoughts roll in. They are a constant reminder of my past. Strength I portray it well, however inside every strong woman is a broken little girl. He never did like my curly hair nor did he like the fact that I chose to wear glasses over contacts. Its simple straightening my hair takes forever and well contacts make my eyes itch. In truth I love the curly mess that sits a top of my head and glasses set me apart from the rest.
I’ve taken one hundred steps forward since I left my ex. He loved to tell me that I would never make it on my own. I realize now that he was the only thing holding me back and keeping me from leading an incredible life. A life that I deserve to live. Chucking him out of the picture was the right choice and now everything is falling into place. My career I love it, the dog he’s the best, we call the UpTown Projects home, and hey all of my bills are paid. So I think I am doing all right. The only thing that’s missing is a man.
I’d like to believe that we need to walk this earth alone in order to find our best selves. For the longest time I was standing in a fog muddling my way through and now I am standing in the sun. Blinded by a future so bright that my heart is beaming. Finding myself was an incredible journey and its funny Mr right was standing there all along. Holding my hand, listening to me complain, and shouting Go Ninja Go. Things are so looking up for this girl and I couldn’t be happier. Finally I matter to someone and know that I am worth every breath I take.
We spend our whole lives trying to step outside of the box. Yet when our life is over we end up in the very thing we’ve been avoiding. Our bodies and our things end up inside that very box.
I spent the better part of my week down at the Ivy packing up and cataloging Charlie’s things. Tears fell when each box was carefully packed, tapped, and loaded onto the truck. This meant my friend was truly gone. To me Charlie’s life is more than a truck full of boxes. If you ask me it was to big to fit inside a box. An that is the kind of life I want to live.
The photos he left behind tell a story, his nick nacks are reminders of the trips he took, and the board games. Well those are a reminder of nights filled with whiskey, deep conversation, and never-ending laughter. Charlie’s condo was always filled with friends needing advice, a place to crash, and those who needed a quiet place to work on a brief. He never turned any of us away. For many of us Charlie was a safe harbor, he always listened first, never judged, and asked if you wanted his advice. Thats what I loved about him, he never forced his opinions on you. He’d tell me: “AJ life has a funny way of working things out. You just have to believe and once you do that, things will fall into place.” Charlie was right. I just wish he was here to see how happy I am and to see that things are finally falling into place.
Charlie always made sure I was ok. After all I was and will always be his brothers Amazing. He did everything in his power to make me smile and get me through the loss of his brother. Charlie stood by my side when I had a Staph infection, held my hand and almost puked when I had an angiogram. He was always there. Whenever I was sick it was a given that he’d be on the next flight. There will never be another man like Charlie nor will I ever have a friend who loved me as much as he did. He was and will always be one hell of man. An I am thankful that for a brief moment I got to call him my friend.
Charlie taught me to live a life outside of the box, to travel light, and love like I was dying. An that is exactly what I am going to do. I want a life that will never be able to fit inside of a box. One so beautiful that it will leave such a legacy in my wake that people will feel compelled to give back to society. To be an example of good will, unwavering determination, and one of survival. I am a statistic, a stroke survivor, and mostly I am one hell of a fighter. Giving up and I can’t are words I seldom say. I am capable of big things and one day I just might change the world. Charlie would want that for me.
Good bye is never easy. Maybe this is why the Ojibway people do not have a word for good-bye. My Father always tells me see you later because there is no such thing as a good-bye. One someone leaves us our hearts are filled with pain and our minds are left wondering why.
Why is something I have uttered numerous times over the past few days. I got angry with God and dared to ask why the fuck Charlie. Of all the people on this earth you could have called home, YOU chose to call home my best friend. Maybe God didn’t realize how much we needed Charlie. How much Charlie meant to each and every one of us. Like many of you in this room I loved Charlie more than words can say. We’ve been in this place before. We’ve said good-bye before. This is where we said good-bye to Charlie’s brother Connor. Those two were something else and they meant the world to me. Now my world is dim and my faith is hindered.
Our wold will never be the same. Charlie was one hell of a man and he was an even better friend. He stood up for those who could not stand. Charlie gave a voice to the silent and he fought like hell to bring a little justice into this world. When I think of the word ‘Attorney” I will always picture Charlie. He lived and breathed what he practiced. Not to mention he kept me up late at night proofing his drafts and before each court appearance I’d give him a pep talk. I’d tell him “Go Charlie Go! You can do this! You are smart now get in there and show them what your made of!” Charlie would chuckle. I do know he won more cases than he lost. So that is all the proof we need that he was one hell of an attorney.
Charlie was an attorney who loved to play board games and you had to play by his rules. Charlie and I would play board games into the wee hours of the morning. He told me once “AJ all of life’s problems can be solved with a board game and a shot of whiskey.” I think Charlie was on the right track. The outside world seemed to disappear with each roll of the dice. As crazy as it seems board games were the perfect distraction and would often lead to deep conversations. Either that it led to me being tipsy and Charlie’s wild laughter filling the condo. I still say he cheated and I never learned how to drink whiskey like a man.
Charlie had a wild streak in him and was always searching for his next adventure. His adventures found him navigating the streets of Europe, climbing the lime stone cliffs of the midwest, and skinny dipping in Lake Superior. He could make the most mundane things into an adventure. Charlie loved working with the Native Youth and supported out-door adventure programing. I watched him teach young kids how to rock climb, wind surf, and survive in the woods. Charlie mentored and encouraged children to seek a college education. He wanted them to seek adventure and to live a life that dreams are made of. He believed that anything was possible.
Charlie lived a life that dreams were made of and he fought like hell to make sure each one of us had an amazing life too. He was our personal cheer leader always encouraging us on to the next peak. Charlie didn’t believe in settling and if you settled he’d give you hell for it. Life is a journey worth taking.
You may have noticed that Charlie has quite a few things in his casket. A few were put there by me. Connect Four. As we all know Charlie’s favorite game was Connect Four this one happens to be special and goes along with the photo of the Muppet Like Dog. You see late one night Charlie and I were so into our game we forgot about the muppet. So the Muppet like dog took it upon himself to chew on the checkers. That was the only night I ever beat Charlie at Connect four.
Charlie loved Cullen. When he was in town I would come home to a note that read “Kidnapped Cullen. He needed some quality man time. Collect at your own risk as we will be sitting naked on the couch drinking beer! Love Charlie and the muppet like dog.” I am going to miss coming home to a ransom note and having to interrupt man and muppet like dog time.
Charlie was an amazing man and I am greatful that I got the chance to call him my friend. Charlie taught me to reach for the clouds, to bust through glass ceilings, and to have faith again. He was one of the greatest things to ever happen to me and my life will never be the same.
We are lucky because God sent us an Angel and not everyone gets to play with an angel on earth. One thing can be said for Charlie he lived a life filled with risks, love, laughter, tears, honor, and adventure. He lived a life with no regrets and we should do the same.
I can honestly say that I have been to more funerals than I have weddings. I have been to more wakes than baptisms. On my way home from work today I realized that I have out lived three of my dearest friends. Days like Thursday I faced the sun and dared to ask “Why?” Why God do you keep taking my friends away. Then I paused for a moment and thought “maybe I just know how to befriend earth-bound angels. Maybe God saw that their purpose was served and he called his weary travelers home. Home to rest on the clouds of heaven.
I didn’t want to go home after work and I knew I had to go to Charlie’s condo. I wasn’t ready so I drove out to the Mall of America and walked around for a few hours. The mall was filled with groups of friends, laughter and smiles. I didn’t feel like smiling. Inside I was dying. I wanted my best friend back. Not even gummy butterflies could turn my frown into a smile. It was getting late so I headed home to get the muppet like dog and we drove over to the Ivy.
As I walked in the door man greeted me and asked “Hey AJ! How are you. Charlie must be home early if your here tonight.” I lost it right there in the lobby. I looked at him and said Charlie isn’t coming home. “Oh Mr. Charlie staying in NYC permanently?” No sir, Charlie died this morning. He won’t be coming home. The doorman walked me to the elevator bay and gave me hug.
That was the longest elevator ride ever and it felt weird walking into his condo. Things looked different to me and it didn’t feel the same. It didn’t feel like Charlies home any more. His coffee table was filled with board games and playboys. The throw blanket on his couch still smelled like his cologne. Cullen was walking around looking for him and I said “Charlie isn’t coming home pal. Our Charlie is gone.” Cullen scampered off as I curled up in the blanket breathing his scent in. Looking out at the Minneapolis Skyline. The view is why Charlie loved living in The Ivy.
I laughed a little, Charlie use to tell me “AJ the moment you fall a sleep is when the fun begins.” That is when he’d hijack my twitter account and tweet my secrets or that nights sleep conversation to the world. I’d fall a sleep next to him as he was drafting documents for and plotting his plan of action for his next big court date. He’d tell me “AJ in you I’ve got the best of both worlds. I’ve got a best friend who is also my paralegal.” Best part is I don’t have to bill you for your proofing and drafting expertise.”
The Black’s Law Dictionary sat next to connect four on the coffee table. I ran my fingers across the box and the tears began to fall. Charlie loved that game and I remembered how excited he was when he bought it. I sat on the floor watching him pop out the plastic pieces and explaining “Charlies version” of the game. If you lost you had to take a shot of whiskey. I swear he cheated. I was the one taking the shots and getting tipsy. He’d look at me wild-eyed and would let out a roar of a laugh. I realize now that playing board games was a distraction from the outside world. When we sat on the floor he was not a lawyer and I was not a paralegal. We were simply Charlie and AJ best friends for life.
The muppet was being super quiet so I got up to investigate. I found him curled up in one of Charlies sweat shirts that he left on his bedroom floor. I nelt down beside him. His eyes looked so sad he huffed a little, the tears began to fall again. I patted Cullen’s head and said “I’m gonna miss him to pal.”
As I sat next to the muppet I kept hoping that Charlie would burst through the door. He didn’t it was just me and my muppet like dog. I quickly glanced at the clock it was almost midnight and I had to be up early for work. So I scooped up Connect Four and a few other things that would be put into his casket. I made sure everything was the way Charlie left it and said goodbye. I have so many good memories in that condo, I hope the next person loves it as much as he did.
Our friendship grew out of horrible circumstances and in the end it was one of the most beautiful things I have ever experienced. Charlie saw me through the hard times and cheered me on during the good times. Charlie was my rock, my bartender, psychologist, partner in crime, and mostly he was my best friend.
I’ve waited my whole life for the moment where I could give back to my sister. Early Saturday morning that moment came. Ben had left a voice mail letting me know that Sophia was being transported by ambulance to a bigger hospital with a NICU. The kicker my sister couldn’t go with. She needed to stay at the hospital and recover from her c-section. Ben called and asked me to come be with her. To get her up, moving, and eating so she could get to her daughter.
My students were happy that ACT prep class was over early. There was no place more important than being at my sister’s side. When I walked into her room she was trying to eat. Lord only knows why she asked for a heavy Arbbys sandwich. That sandwich was winning and she was losing. I watched her struggle to get out of bed. While she was in the bathroom our Mama walked in. My sister was asking for her earlier.
If you know our Mother than you know she is a drill Sargent. I can’t blame her for being that way. The woman had to raise a sick child and brought both of us to the top of our game. We strived for perfection. My sister couldn’t reach the brass ring. Instead she chose to give in to the shit around her. College slipped through her fingers and she settled for a certificate. My beautiful sister chose to settle. While I traveled the world and honed my craft. I rose to the top and she stood by my side cheering me on. As I watched my sister I knew she was giving in she was settling for what was and not thinking of getting through the pain.
After a good nap she was up and walking in the hall. My sister was fighting back. For once she chose not to settle for what was but for what could be. I cheered her on as she walked and said to her “Do you remember what you’d whisper in my ear when I was too sick to move.” She said No. “You said to me “Bobbie bird grow strong and big. I want to play with you. You my sister and my friend.” She cracked a smile and walked a little further. Once we got back to her room she was ready for a shower. The nurse came in and explained a few things to us. I was off to let the muppet out. When I came back I found a completely different woman.
She was showered, dressed, and eating. Smiling from ear to ear. Eyes glued to storage wars. I giggled when I saw her. My sister was back. She found the strength to get through the pain and get closer to her daughter. Soon our parents left and it was just us. Hanging out in her hospital room having a slumber party. My sister said I don’t know what I’d do if I lost Sophia. I told her Sophia is like her auntie and that little girl isn’t going anywhere. Lord knows I’ve almost died 3 times and I am still standing. I said “Fathead you are going to have a gazillion years with Sophia. She is in the best hands and she is a fighter. We never give up.” She looked up with tears in her eyes and cracked a smile.
I swear she kept me up until almost 1 am. The Dr. came in at 7:05 to tell my sister that she was free to go. All we had to do was tell the nurses to get the paper work in order. She ordered breakfast and took a shower. As I sat on the couch watching some trashy travel show she asked me “can you come here?” “I need help getting dressed.” The poor thing couldn’t bend over. My the tables have turned I said. Again she smiled. Once she was dressed I told the nurses we were ready to bust out. I am happy to report that she walked out on her own accord. I shoved her in the prius and we were on our way.
I stopped by the NICU on Sunday night. Sophia had wires coming from all directions and my sister sat in the rocker with a smile. She was with her baby. An I had kept my promise. I told her on Saturday ” I will do everything in my power to get you to Sophia.” I held to my word and watched as Jammie held Sophia in her arms. Sophia was a sleep in her Mommys arms and my sister was happy. Her happiness was worth one night of crappy sleep on a hospital couch. This was my moment to give back to her and show her that she was stronger than she ever thought possible.
Have Bear Will Travel 