Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Process

But I don't understand, I don't understand how this all happens, how we go through this, I mean I knew her, and now she's...there's just a body, and I don't understand how come she just can't get back in it and not be dead anymore. It's stupid! It's mortal! and it's stupid! And Xander's crying and not talking, and I was having fruit punch and I was thinking that well Joyce will never have fruit punch, ever, and she'll never have eggs, or yawn, or brush her hair, not ever, and no one will explain to me why. ~Anya, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, 5.16 - The Body

Moe was only 42. She beat breast cancer, she was a strong, amazing woman.
Wednesday she found out that she had liver cancer.
Thursday afternoon she was in the hospital, then on life support.
Early Friday morning the tumor or whatever it was crystalized and burst, essentially poisoning her. She had a heart attack. They worked on her for 26 minutes. The doctor finally told her husband that they could continue and buy her maybe another 30 minutes, maybe a couple hours.
3 days. That's it.

I've only known Moe for about a year and a half. She was a dear friend of the fiance's and I met her through him. We all work for the same place and the first time she and I actually met was over the phone soon after the fiance and I started dating. I was helping her with some computer stuff. Moe is welcoming and loving, I was instantly family. She was a great person to talk to. She'd give it to you straight, because sometimes that's just how you need it. No holds barred, no secrets, you always knew what was on her mind. Without Moe it's fair to say that the fiance and I would not be engaged right now. She steered our relationship away from the rocks several times. We both implicitly trusted her, and she never broke that trust, not once. You could count on Moe. She was just amazing like that. She is a true friend, and I am so blessed to have had her in my life.

I am absolutely reeling right now. Like Anya, I don't understand. I cannot make sense of it. Death seems to be a concept that is too great for the capacity of the human mind to understand. It is most certainly beyond mine. I've glimpsed it here and there. I was so young when my aunt and paternal grandfather passed away. Too young for it to really hit me. The fiances grandparents hit, but it was subtle. Though I loved them, I barely knew them. Moe is the first time I am really having to face this head on. We were very close, she was a mix of friend, sister and mother.

I have many happy memories with Moe. And I can't seem to wrap my mind around it that there will not be additions to those. Nothing new. Moe changed the lives of everyone she met. She will always influence mine. I can hear her voice in my head, hear her laugh. I can picture the two of us nursing spritzers in the desert, spending most of the day pleasantly fuzzy and enjoying great conversation while the rest of camp was out riding the dunes. Moe is the reason I got back on my quad and still ride today. She was my teacher and my friend. She lived life without regrets. I know I will miss her. I'm not there yet, because I still don't accept that she's gone. It just seems like she's gone on a trip or something. Just out of sight around the next corner, just over the next dune.

I feel split. Compartmentalization to the extreme. A part of me is standing rationally (or irrationally, I'm not truly sure which) to the side, watching the other part of me curl into the fetal position, trying desperately not to face this. This horrific monster called death that stole Moe from me, from Bells, from the fiance, from all of us who knew and loved her. That rational part of me knows that everything happens for a reason and that she is safe and out of pain. The curled up one doesn't care because it hurts so much. In all my actions I can hear her voice, her comments and what she would say. I know we have a new guardian angel watching over us and the idea comforts me.


4 comments:

Gigi Ann said...

Jaina, I have a son who died 5 years ago. I understand some of your hurt, anger, and sadness, you are feeling right now. I also know that we each have to deal with it in our own way.

I know right now this will not help much, but, believe me it will get better, and you will move on with your life. However, you will never forget your friend. In time the happy memories will take center stage and make things so much better. But, there will always be a day now and again, when you will think of her and have a good cry. Maybe a smell, sound, song, or something someone says, will spark a memory and the tears will just flow.

But, it will get better.

Love and hugs,

Gramma Ann

Kimberly Vanderhorst said...

Oh Jaina, my heart just aches for you. These sort of griefs are all the harder to bear because they just don't make sense. I'm so sorry. ~hugs~

Kelly Deneen Raymond said...

I really am so sorry for the loss of your dear friend. :( Just know you are in my thoughts.

Jaina said...

Gramma Ann-I am so sorry about your son. I know you are right, I'm slowly working my way there. I wish the process was faster.

Kim-::hugs::

Kelly-Thank you :)