It’s 4:22am as I sit down to write this. I’m lost somewhere between numb and on the verge of bursting into tears.
I was woken up yesterday morning by a phone call from my stepdad, telling me that my friend (and Mom’s dear friends’ son) was in a coma. Turns out Mike was injured in a long boarding accident, and had been flown back to Spokane from Moscow, ID via hele. Within a matter of seconds the pressure in his brain went from fifteen pounds to over a hundred pounds. A hole was cut in his skull to relieve the pressure.
Mike: a beloved pain in the ass with eyes that laugh and arms that give best hugs.
It had already been quite the week.
I spent the day trading bawdy jokes and tales with my friend Ryan who had driven into town from Grand Coulee to help me deal with the tree in the back yard that dropped several large branches in the last wind storm across multiple yards. In the 95 degree heat I battled this Box Elm (that I named Igor for the ugly chains that supported the trunk and it’s broken, twisted and rotten appearance) as a surrogate for my emotions.
As Ryan and I worked, cutting and hauling pieces of Igor, he kept telling me that he’d take over with the tree and my daughter so I could go see Mike. I couldn’t go. The hospital was overwhelmed with people. Igor needed my attention. There was nothing I could do. I didn’t want to further burden his mom and family. I didn’t want to see him… not like that.
We were able to prune Igor back, clean up the mess, and relieve the weight off the branches that were the most likely to come crashing down. But a part of it is still rotting.
I sit here, and it’s now 5:12am. I’m pondering the condition of that tree, and the condition of my heart. I have ghosts keeping me company. Please don’t join them, Mike. You’ve got your kids and the work you need to do. You have more hugs to give, and you must come by and drink up all my wine and annoy me as I make dinner.
But, in the whisper of the fan blades, I hear you… telling me that there is work to be done, and a world full of people that need to be loved. Life is too damn short and precious to be caught up in the little things, and we must dance even if the next wind storm could bring the whole thing down.
Outside, the sky is now pink through my window. It’s 5:21am. I’m going to see the pink clouds, sun’s rays and lightning strikes from the incoming storm… and send you all of my love.