Its funny how time passes. For some reason it lingers when you want nothing to do with it. But it runs faster than Usain Bolt when you want it to hang around. One of my biggest personal flaws is that I might be
too compassionate. I put myself last on the list of things to do, because I genuinely believe that I will be happy if others around me are happy. Yet time has begun to prove that this may be a dead end for me. Everyone else I know who is like me never receives the gratitude that they deserve until it is too late. Its crazy how many times you hear about how people love each other and never say it enough. And then one day the person you love is gone, and a void inside burns bigger every day with the things you wish you would have said. Which is absurd really, because everyone appreciates the notion of love.
There was one person in my life who constantly reminded me to tell everyone how I felt. My Nana. She forever warned me that time was a particular hazard in life, and to always try and work with it, because in the end we all lose the fight against it. She lost her battle just over 2 years ago now, Yet the start of her life was a mere 2 days ago, and she would have been 72. I took the time to think about what it really meant to me, and the fact that I still think of her on her birthday even though she is no longer here. I cannot call her, send her an email or card in the mail telling her happy birthday. Or that I love her, and miss her. But she knows, I have faith that she knows. And for this ironic reason...
4 months before she past, i had a heartbreaking, unbearable summer that I still cry about. I lost one of my best friends in a car crash. I found out when I was in BC at my cabin. Everyone else had gone out on the lake to enjoy the scorching August afternoon. I hadn't been feeling well that entire day, but I could not put a finger on why exactly. Zoe called me, and I knew what she was going to say before the words even reached me. I am, embarrassingly, a closet emo child. I hate crying in public, or on the phone. I don't like to look weak. I ran to my room and cried so hard I couldn't breathe. I was shaking uncontrollably. I didn't know what to do with myself. I could not remember the last thing I had said to Hannah, even though we had spoken the day before. I could not remember the last time I told her I loved her, and I was mad at myself for it. No true best friend would not remember their last conversation.
I heard a door open in what seemed to be the far off distance. Then there was a hand on my back. On my shoulder. Cradling me. Pulling me in. As horrible as I felt, I knew I was safe. That for that one moment, everything would be ok. We sat there for what felt like days. She never asked what was wrong, but she knew. She knew I had lost a part of my life that would never be replaced.
It is gut-wrenching that the last memory I have of her is one in which I am mourning a loved one. I never saw her afterwards. I flew back to boarding school. Four months later she was dead and thats all I could think about. The fact that the last time we touched was because someone had died.
Time is a funny creature. I believe in fate. I believe everything happens for a reason. I lost two of the most important people in my life in the span of 4 months. But I also believe I have become stronger from it, or am at least trying to. In losing Nana and Hannah blossomed one of the most amazing best friends I could ever ask for. We went through probably the roughest grade 12 anyone could attest to. The cliche stands firm: what wont kill you will only make you stronger. That plus Zoe Gordon Kirkham. I love you child. And I just wanted to let you know, because tomorrow is not promised today.