Goodbye My Friend

The last post was written over a week ago. I had to put the finishing touches on it before putting it out to the world, and so had not published. So much has changed since I began writing that. I wanted to honor where my thoughts and feelings were then, however, before writing again based on recent events.

M, Mary, Mary O'Connor, is gone. She died last Friday. She was visiting her niece in Washington, DC and her niece came home from work to find her dead. I don't know what happened yet or any details of her service.

I was angry with my brother this morning. He made a comment last night that infuriated me. Just before Christmas a buddy of his from South Dakota died. He was a young guy with a family; someone my brother would hang out with occasionally. He was driving in a snow storm and lost control of his truck on the ice. He slid into a pole and was killed. I don't know if he was drinking or not but from what Lee tells me it was likely. Lee made the mistake of saying that he knew how I felt, in losing Mary, because he had dealt with the same thing in losing his buddy. I was so furious I couldn't speak.

How dare he compare some young guy he would party with once in a while to my relationship with Mary. I slept on it, stewed about a bunch of other things that have been going woefully wrong, and then spoke with him this morning. Just so he was clear, I explained to him, Mary was NOT like his buddy. She wasn't just some random friend I would do things with now and again. I had known Mary for nearly thirteen years and over the past several years she had been more of a Mother to me, more family to me, than my own had been.

I saw Mary at least once a week, sometimes more. She never missed an important event, she never forgot my Birthday, she didn't have to be coerced into being there for me, she just was. She loved me. She was wise and warm and wonderful. She counseled me through some of the most difficult times in my life. She let me cry and worry and vent. She made me laugh and was generous with her time, patience, and spirit. She offered her support, emotionally and financially, when my "family" couldn't be bothered. She never took but always gave. She loved music, wine, laughter, art, and her community. She was part of the fabric of more than just my life. Everyone knew her and everyone loved her. She was Mother to me. My own doesn't really care, doesn't remember my Birthday, can't attend events, would rather be married to my molester than be mother to me.

I know she's gone but she can't be gone. My friends all have lives. They have children and families, jobs and homes, things that they have to focus on. I'm an intruder. Even when they welcome me and I know they're sincere, I'm not family not really. Now that Mary's gone I feel so alone. I miss her so much. I can't believe I'll never again hear the sound of her voice, listen to her wisdom, or share laughter and wine with her. I feel hallow. Did she even know how much she meant to me? How much she meant to everyone?