This morning I was missing my friend Kaply who passed away four years ago. I was going to get some macaron cookies and I had a memory come out of nowhere - once or twice I made Kaply care packages that included macarons. I wanted to get a bunch of things she liked and take them to her when I was visiting Seattle, but I didn't know what she drank. I texted Sizzle a few times asking what kind of soda Kap preferred so I could include it in the care package. I knew that Sizzle would know; they were close in many different ways. And whatever else I had to give to Kap, I would add macarons because they are my love language. And I would surprise Kap with a visit and some treats. So my trip to go find cookies this morning sparked that memory.
Tonight I logged into the old blog and went through my drafts - I have a half dozen drafts from 2011 - 2014 that I've never let myself delete. They are like little, private time capsules of important events that I never felt quite ready to share. Below is one of the drafts - still unfinished - that I kept all this time. Kap died from kidney failure in February of 2014, and her service was a few weeks later. I remember coming back to this draft many times over months and years, thinking I would be able to publish it when some time had passed. I tried after a few months, and when that didn't work I thought - maybe on the anniversary a year later. Or maybe on the second anniversary. It never felt right. It still doesn't, but I'd like to set this free.
March 30, 2014
On a Tuesday in February I was at work getting out of my mentor meeting with a kid I absolutely love. Meeting with her is the best hour of my month, and I was a bit giddy from the time we spent together. I walked back to my cube and checked my cell phone - something that I do so automatically I would be ashamed to find out how many times a day I actually do it.
Sizzle called. That's strange. We tweet, we text, but we don't often call. Besides I'd just happened to have seen her two days before when she was in town with friends. We stole a couple of hours at the Roxy telling stories and sharing a few tears. As friends do. That Tuesday I saw the missed call, but I was running to my next meeting so I thought I'd wait to check my messages . . . oh well, I'll just listen real quick and see what's up. I was already late to my 11:00 - what's another minute or two?
And then it's a blur. I know I'm here, now, in my bed, the laundry doing a rhythmic hum and rumble in the background. I know I need to get up in the morning to go to work and once I'm there I'll have a million things to do all day long and I'll have to fight for a bathroom break and I'll finish about 10 hours later, absolutely famished and focused on finding my first meal of the day. Those things are clear, but not much else is.
I want to say something really selfish but it will feel good to get it off my chest: I loved Kaply
in a very selfish way that I think is different from the way I love anyone. I loved Kaply because of the way she loved me.
