Her laugh, her voice, her words all spoke of something ephemeral and pure. She was all or nothing, a tome of fictional truths, a writer, a wife, a mother, a rock star, a wild woman, and a sensitive soul. An old soul. She felt like a child who had lived many, many lives and who had decided, "fuck this shit." She was small and lean with an enormous aura that stretched from some obscure Canadian Islands to the Floridian Peninsula. And she wrote grit. She tapped into her old soul, shucked away all layers of nicety, and wrung blood from the page. Big things. Uncomfortable things. Things that still make me a little uncomfortable. She wrote them all. She didn't have time to fuck around. She had a message. She had a moment. And she used her time to the very end, publishing "Pelee Island Stories" within the last nine months.
She was an old soul. She was so beautiful. She had the beauty and grace and fierceness... the sad, happy eyes half hooded with pleasure and mystery... that only comes from the lessons and loves of life after life after life. So many lives. And why did this one have to be so short?
Tanya. I know you'll be back here someday in a different life, same soul, same beauty and honesty. New body. New name. You'll share your talents all over again. You'll raise some hell. Maybe raising some more kids. Maybe your next life will be longer. But I doubt there will ever be another life with this many people missing you, grieving you, and celebrating your memory. You left us on May 25th (a few days ago, seconds really, in the grand scheme of things). You were diagnosed with stage IV esophageal cancer on June 5th last year. Thank you for each and every moment you gave us after the diagnosis. Thank you for being there at my last residency and for graduating with me. Thank you for being an old soul, a dear friend, and an amazing and inspiring talent in my life. Peace, friend.
Oh God, I'm so sorry Amanda. :'(
ReplyDeleteI have an online friend I've known over a decade who was recently diagnosed with uterine cancer. She was getting surgery and treatments but I've tried to contact her a few times and have not heard back from her. She's very sensitive and sweet but thought of herself as a "schmuck" in her own words because her loved ones sort of walked over her because of her sentimentality and eagerness to please.
A month ago, I said enough is enough with Facebook and deleted everyone except people who I need to stay connected with to play few stupid games. No matter how upsetting the feed stories were, I had to keep looking. Just my nature I guess. It's like being in a room full of jack-in-the-boxes: I know something unpleasant would pop out every time I turned that little handle but I kept doing it. My only recourse was to make facebook a place I never had to log into except to participate in a decade old group of people I've known who post actual content and avoid the circus.
I think she may have taken the deletion personal even though I use facebook messenger on my tablet. I don't have to friend or follow anyone to write to them or have them write back.
So I worry about her health and wonder if she's even still alive.
I recently lost my kitty Sage. The third of May. That hurt worst than just about anything. I still have Dusty, which is a comfort but it was such a shock that Sage went first. I assumed Dusty would go first because I've had to give him enemas twice a week for the past four or five years. Poor little Dusty is a bit lost too.
It's hard to lose the one's who've touched our lives so profoundly whether they be pink and hairless, furry or feathery.
edit: The group I refer to is something I can be a member of and communicate within but I don't have to be be on my friends list to see them and talk to them in the group. So now my feed is full of nothing but "add me" requests and "I need blah and blarbity for my farm" etc.
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