Last Saturday night I was checking in at my favorite social network sites when I noticed a message from an old high school friend.  She was writing to let me know that my best friend from high schools' mother had passed away.

Its funny ( and by funny, I really mean not so much...) how one message can send you spiraling backwards in time.  In  an instant I was back in 1988.

This friend of mine was my partner in crime so to speak.  We started to smoke together, we drank a lot some together, we went to bush parties, had house parties, hung around the War Memorial flirting with all the skate boarders.  We loved the skate boarders.  Hell, I even busted my wrist that summer trying to do an ollie.  But I digress.

I spent so much time at her house.  So much that my Mom commented tonight how she thought that it was my second home.  I didn't want to tell her, but at that time I felt like it was more home than ours.  My parents were going through a separation and our duplex on Louisbourg was not somewhere that I wanted to be.

I called my friend that night.  I hadn't talked to her in a few years but her phone number was tucked away nicely  in my memory bank.    I know when I lost my Dad and my Brother , the last thing I wanted to do was reach out to people, but I was comforted when they reached out to me.

We talked  for a while about her Mom and shared some stories about her.  I have such wonderful memories being in their home; being in their basement watching Ferris Buellers Day Off  while her Mom sat in her chair and knit.  I spent many  mornings in their kitchen and many a night at their  dinning table.  It makes my heart heart for my friend that her Mom wont be in that house anymore.

I attended the wake this evening to see my old friend and pay my respect.  I was feeling a lot of trepidation about going.   I hate funeral homes.  With .  A.  Passion.  They smell of lilies and I will never, ever, ever like that flower.  EVER.  They remind me of the losses that my family has had.  And you inevitably bump into someone that makes you uncomfortable.    I know these points are all silly and irrelevant, however they are my feelings, and they are coming from the girl who hates funeral homes so much that she left her own brother's wake because she couldn't stand to be there one more minute.  And not because I didn't love him, but rather because I did.

I had a sick feeling in my stomach the entire drive across the river.  I walked in and saw my friend and I wanted to cry.  I asked all the questions that one asks at these things.  All the ones I hated, but found myself asking anyways. ( My Apologies D.)  I smelled those damn funeral  flowers, and I saw the one person that I knew would make me uncomfortable.

I left disappointed in myself for not trying to bridge the gap.  I left sad for my friend and her sister.  I left with some more memories that I wasn't expecting to resurface but they did.  I left happy that I reconnected with my old friends but sad that I let so much time pass, and that I let my feelings of insecurities get in the way of keeping in touch with these girls, who whether they know it or not, had a huge impact on the person I am today.  I left and went for a drive.

 I drove along the water, past the marina and thought of my friend and her Mom.  I  felt like I could drive forever tonight.  I'd  like to say that on my drive I had some mind blowing revelations about life and death, but sadly I did not.  Looking at the river made me think of how rapidly things change in your life.  One minute the waters are still and peaceful, and the next choppy and rough.  ( In awe of my metaphoric analogies, aren't you?)  I think we all want the peacefulness of the still waters, but lately they seem elusive.  Tonight just  reminded me that its not just me.  

RIP Ms. D