Maybe Today

My dad used to write me cards. He wrote me cards about how proud he was of me; he wrote cards of apologies when we went through hard times and he wrote me a card of regret and sadness when he couldn’t contribute to my wedding because of his health and financial challenges.  

Every once in awhile I’ll rummage through the messy box of cards and pull one out and read it to remember and feel him.

He loved cards. My dad and his best friend from kindergarten, Harry, exchanged birthday cards for decades. In my messy box of cards, tied with a rubber band, I have the one’s my dad sent to Harry over the decades. Months before my dad died, in his last card to Harry, he said, “I have really loved being your friend.”

A few days after my friend Janice passed away a few weeks ago, I went through the past couple of years of text messages . . . love you, thank you, thinking about you, how are you, grateful to you, miss you, can you talk . . . lots of little notes back and forth of love, care, appreciation and connection.

Since my children were born, every year for their birthday, I write them cards about what I love and appreciate about them and favorite memories from the year. They never read them and often roll their eyes, but I have them in safe keeping in my nightstand for when I am no longer here. They will have something that sheds light into my heart as their mother just like my dad did for me.

I leave on Friday for my dear friend’s memorial and celebration of life. Today marks another week of her passing. As I slowed down and stretched my tight body this morning on my yoga mat, the grief and sadness was right there and I thought about what I would say if I could write her a card. 

Dear Janice,

Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for showing up for me during the most difficult time in my life. Thank you for all the walks, all the calls and all of our brainstorming sessions about life and motherhood. Thank you for being you . . . a bright light that continues to shine even though your physical body isn’t here.

I miss talking on the phone; I miss hearing your voice, “hello, dear.” I miss you.

I learned so much from you about life, loyalty and friendship. I will be forever grateful to you for that. I am also forever grateful for your many nuggets of wisdom. These are my favorites:

If you could do better, you would.
Get the facts!
Our greatest wisdom comes from our suffering. 

Thank you for blessing me with your kindness, time, patience and faith. Thank you for seeing my goodness even when I couldn’t recognize it within myself.

I love you. I will always love you. Love, Your friend Carly

Maybe today we all write a card to our beloved friends and just let them know what we love and appreciate about them.