I know this has been a tough week for celebrities and the most recent deaths of; Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson. But we have to keep in mind, that death is a part of our LIFE. None of us escapes it — no matter how hard we try. For some, it comes much too early, like my friends, Theresa DeGennaro, Jerry Duffy, Matt Morrell, Tee Ford, and my dear, sweet friend,  Greta Baker. We have a tendency to make death some scary-boogie-monster-thing we think we can evade but in reality it is all just a matter of being a part of the plan.

What I wouldn’t give to be able to have one more conversation with Wendy Johnson, or Kim (Abercrombie) Kennedy, Jack Carroll, John Kelley or my young cousin, BD Dwyer, but their time on this earth has ended and there isn’t a way for me to speak with them directly.   I guess I could use that reason (or excuse) to go out and commit all kinds of selfish acts; I could probably get away with some of it, too.  But does that bring anyone back?  No.  Does that bring me an ounce of relief?  No.  All it does is add to my own personal guilt.

So, what do I do instead?  I write.  I want the world to know that Theresa was one of the funniest people I’ve ever known in my life and how most of our friends and classmates wouldn’t have a clue as to how insecure and afraid she was of the world.  Her death came as a direct result of her alcoholism and I believe she drank to put a stop (however temporary) to her feelings of inferiority and shame.   I tell people, in my writing, about how Theresa was a chameleon of sorts; she could get along with princes and paupers and would find herself in any circle of peers at any given time.  But I’d also have to tell you how she never stayed very long in any one place because she was terrified that they would find out the truth about her (or the truth she thought was hers); that she was only wearing a mask and playing a part; and that there was no way would anyone from any group really get to know the real Tess.  

Death comes to us all, eventually, and the idea is not to evade it or think you can outrun it but to embrace it as a part of life.  I’m one of those people who believes that we are only on this earth for a short amount of time, in this body of flesh, but that we remain spirits forever and as spirits we can still be a part of the lives of our loved ones. 

I can’t begin to explain how very much I miss my friend, Greta.   Greta and I met when I was 30 weeks pregnant with Abigail and in pre-term labor.  She was the nurse who took care of me the first night I went to the hospital in an attempt to keep Abbie in the womb where she belonged.  I returned to the hospital a few days later and was admitted for a few weeks.  During that time, each time Greta was working, she would ask to be my nurse.  She spent many nights sitting in the chair in my room, watching TV with me while she finished up her paperwork.  We had a lot in common and became fast friends.  When I left the hospital she gave me her home phone number and said that I could call her if I ever needed anything.  A short time later I did call her and we were soon neighbors when my husband and I purchased our first house in her hometown. 

For the next half dozen years or so we were inseperable and I was honored to be Matron of Honor in her wedding to her husband, Scott.  I don’t have enough space available to share all of the times Greta and I shared over those few years but I can say that we were supportive of one another, we were teacher to one another, spiritual advisors, confidants and best friends.

Here I am, today, years after her death admitting to all of you that I think about and miss her every single day.  I don’t burst into tears anymore (very often) when I’m reminded of the time I spent with her and in fact, I’ve come to embrace all of our memories with a kind of feeling that tells me, she’s not so far away — and that as long as I have memories of her, she will always be nearby.  I find comfort in that idea and that’s what works for me.

As we are faced with death, as a natural occurance that is inevitable, if we can find comfort in believing that our loved ones are always somehow with us, or that we were blessed to have had whatever amount of time we had with them and that their death is a part of their life, then maybe we can come to see death, not as the enemy but as a part of a bigger plan. 

I don’t know what you’re thinking right now, but that’s what is kicking around in my head.