I prefer words on a page as opposed to words "out the mouth". That's to say, when I'm the one doing the speaking, or, typing, shall we say. The reason is this: I'm terrible at live, real time, spoken out loud words that haven't been written down first. I want to be liked, I want to be admired, I don't want to be looked down on as a bumbling idiot. And this thought makes me nervous. So in my nervous state, I turn into a bumbling idiot. I try to make jokes to ease my poor verbal performance tension and they aren't funny. At all. Sometimes they are beyond not funny to the point of offensive. All because I'm afraid I will come off as...well...less. And I try to make jokes about my insecurities that blow up in my face.
Here's a perfect example. I smoke. I'm ashamed. I'm ashamed because I love smoking. I know how awful it is. I KNOW. But I like it too much to stop (Although my deadline as promised to Hanna five years ago, that I'd quit during my 35th year, is fast approaching). But when I'm in a gathering of all or mostly all non smokers I feel silly smoking. But I do it anyway. And then when I come back inside filling the room of normal smelling non smokers with the stinky cigarette smell, I am self conscious. So I try to throw out a joke about lung cancer. Needless to say, it isn't funny. Or human. It's reprehensible actually. Had I written down the script of what to say after coming in from a yummy cigarette whilst feeling self conscious of the stench you bring back into the room I'd have written this: nothing. Say nothing. Because if you feel bad about the stink but not bad enough to quit, just keep your mouth shut. And this piece of advice, just keep your mouth shut, would work well for me in most social situations. But keep your fingers off the keyboard, well, that one is not for me. I think I'm good at it. I think. I'm pretty sure.
And recently someone came to me because they had something they wanted to say to someone in a letter but they didn't know how to say it. They had all this stuff inside their head and knew the points they wanted to make but didn't know how to get it on the paper. So I did it for them. We talked for a while and I took notes. Heh. Really, I did. And then I wrote the letter. I wrote fast and furious without stopping. And then when I was done, I read the letter out loud. And we both cried. It was really very good.
Lately I've been missing Kate more than usual. Well, what is usual? I think it was sparked by that Alecia Keys song, Girl on Fire. Because Kate would LOVE that song. I know it. And I tortured myself for a week listening to that song on repeat every time I was in the car, as loud as it could go. And I cried every time. And I wanted to talk to Kate. Out loud. In case she's listening. But I'm not good at out loud. So I'm writing her this letter, and when I'm done, I'll read it out loud. And I'll cry. But it will be that feel good kind. And I'll think that she probably IS listening. Hopefully.
Dear Sister,
My friend Ali died. Remember her? Of course you do, you remember everyone. I actually didn't know her as well as some of our other friends, and that makes me sad. I was wondering if you have met her there, where you two are. I think you have. I think you two are singing songs together, standing in the front row of some celestial cover band, without having to throw bows, screaming your lungs out. And you both can't stop laughing. And you're so JOYFUL you just radiate happiness. Yes, I think that's what you're doing right now. I went to her memorial service and it was....well beautiful and wonderful and sad and terrible. Of course. And there is something I wanted to tell you about it. She lost both of her parents and didn't have a spouse or boyfriend. She just had one brother, and he lives in Texas. And she had cancer, too, of course you know that already. But even though she was by familial definition sort of "alone" in this world, she wasn't alone at all. When she died, she was surrounded by her brother and these "sisters". These women who weren't related to her at all but came together to be her family when she needed one. That's what made me cry the hardest. I'm getting a little choked up right now actually. That is SOMETHING. To make a dying person such a priority in your life so they don't go alone. So they know they are loved and can see it and feel it in all those moments leading up to the big moment. They surrounded her with themselves. We did that for you and I can honestly say I think it's one of the greatest things I've done in my life. To be there with you every day until the end. But I'm your sister. Your real sister. These women weren't related to Ali at all. Some of them only knew her for like five years!! And because I was there with you and saw how much that meant and what that did for you, I KNOW what that did for Ali. To have her Dean and to have her "sisters" there during that time. It's so wonderful that my heart feels full and aching and joyful and sad all at the same time. So my message to you is that I love you and I miss you and I know you're experiencing a peace beyond my comprehension. And when you see Ali, tell her this: I'm sorry I wasn't closer to her while she was here but I think she didn't need me anyway. She had the best sisters anyone could ask for.
xoxo
Love,
Sara
