I know where I was a year ago. Standing on the Hoover Dam, when I got the phone call... Eva was gone. I knew it was coming, despite my greatest hopes that the miracle would come. It had been clear for a few weeks that it probably wouldn't. Still, to know that it would never come, my heart broke into a million pieces.
Standing on one of the greatest monuments to man standing up against nature, creating life where it wasn't meant to be, I had a hard time bringing the words to my lips to tell my husband and one of my best friends that was in town that she was gone. I didn't want to say them, because I didn't want to validate them being true. My FB and twitter began to fill up with condolences. It meant a lot. The little village that spanned the world, brought together by CF and her unflinching words, was there to help rally around me.
I've had a hard time writing ever since. It's hard for me to pinpoint why. I feel like I should. I need to on some level. But, it just, I don't know. I met Eva through this keyboard. Through the internet community. We stood by each other through loss. We had a blessed day together when she was the picture of health. And I got to see her sparkle on the red carpet. And now, I'm left to help carry on her legacy. And I feel that nothing I write would ever be able to capture how much she meant to me.
The unflinching truth about me? CF is slowly getting me. I'm still not quite sick enough for a transplant, but I doubt I will ever have a day where I truly feel GOOD until I am hopefully blessed with the gift of life from another. That's a lot to deal with at 28. My house is a mess around me. It's hard physically to do the work, and mentally to deal with that I can't do all that I want to. But, I am trying. Slowly I see more of me appearing from the bounds of my body.
But the winds continue to swirl. The sun rises and sets. Life continues. My life continues. I continue to try, though I don't always know where I'm headed, I try to head there with love. Love. Always love.