“Our Friendship means the world to me, good times with good friends make the best memories. “Friend” isn’t a word meaningful enough to express all that we have between the history, the laughter, and the memories that we share. Even “family” doesn’t describe it, unless family means a bond freely given, well-maintained, and deeply cherished.”
This was one of the last cards I gave to Cheryl. A few months later, she and Carl were gone in an instant. That was 3 years ago today.
Last night I wasn’t plagued by the dream I have had for the past few years of their car spinning out of control, me reaching for them but not being able to stop it. I’m surprised because we had a nasty snowstorm through the night, but relieved as well. For maybe now, I am finally achieving some inner peace.
That night, while talking to Heather, she said, “How are we going to get through this?” I replied, ” Together, the only way they would want it.”
Here we are 3 years later, and I want to thank you, my friend, for entrusting me with your greatest treasure. Your family. I know you are looking down on them and are so proud of all of them. At first, I felt a sad guilt being able to be with them and hug them when you couldn’t, but a mutual friend said to me one day: “You are exactly where they would want you to be. Genuinely loving their family, when they can’t physically do it.”
Below is the eulogy I wrote for their 2nd celebration of life:
Life should not be a journey to the grave to arrive safely in an attractive and well-preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, wine in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and screaming, “Woo Hoo, What a ride!”
A few years ago, Cheryl presented me with a magnet with the Motto To Live By. She had it specially made at a little shop we loved to go to. When she handed it to me she said, we are always going to be the chocolate and wine people. We aren’t going to hide inside and watch life go by.
Over the past 4 weeks, two things have been running through my head constantly. Number 1 being a conversation Cheryl and I had about a week before the accident. It was just one of our normal lunchtime walks, the day was beautiful and we were walking downtown. As we stopped to hit the cross button Cheryl turned to me and said: “you know, I have always believed in God, but it’s only recently that I have come to understand Faith.” She didn’t have to explain, I knew what she meant. Every time she got down on herself and what was going on I would reply “have faith, everything works out for a reason, even if we don’t understand it”.
I have been trying to make sense of these events. When the grief is so raw that I wake in the middle of the night crying “why”, the nightmares, the fear for those I love becomes overwhelming, and my faith is wavering, her words come back to me.
“I have come to understand Faith.”
In order to make sense of losing them, we have to have faith in ourselves and those we love. We have to have faith that we can carry on the example Cheryl and Carl gave us. No matter how tough things get, stay loyal to those you love and you will get through it.
Cheryl and Carl were drawn together all those years ago, and have united each and every one of us near and far, through their love for us. They forged a family, both of blood and loyalty (for Cheryl was my most loyal friend) and they didn’t keep that family separate. Over the years they have brought us together, so that at this time, we can grieve together. Our individual lose is immense but each of us our not alone and we will endure individually yes, but also as a family. Supporting each other as the friend, who would drop everything she was doing, to drive halfway across the state to be at my side when I was injured. And the friend, who painted my car while I was in Florida, because he didn’t want it to rust, and his last act of friendship was to change my windshield wipers on a snowy, icy night, because he wanted me to be safe.
Cheryl entered my life like and express train and pulled me on for a ride that changed both our lives. Carl, was content to be our caboose. Following behind us, letting us steam through our adventures and then listening and bantering with us about it when we’d get back. Cheryl and Carl, brought out the best in each other. It wasn’t always a smooth, or peaceful journey. But a journey that is any fun isn’t always rosy. Her fierce determination and love of life and family, balanced his dreamy, artistic spirit. They also brought out the best in all of us. More importantly, they chose us to share their train.
This leads me to the second thing that has been running through my head. A poem I read once. I don’t know who the author is, I have seen several names attributed to it. It is titled The Train:
At birth we boarded the train and met our parents, and we believe they will always travel by our side. As time goes by, other people will board the train; and they will be significant i.e. our siblings, friends, children, strangers and even the love of your life. However, at some station our parents will step down from the train, leaving us on this journey alone. Others will step down over time and leave a permanent vacuum. Some, however, will go so unnoticed that we don’t realize they vacated their seats. This train ride will be full of joy, sorrow, fantasy, expectations, hellos, goodbyes, and farewells. Success consists of having a good relationship with all passengers requiring that we give the best of ourselves.
The mystery to everyone is: We do not know at which station we ourselves will step down. So, we must live in the best way, love, forgive, and offer the best of who we are. It is important to do this because when the time comes for us to step down and leave our seat empty we should leave behind beautiful memories for those who will continue to travel on the train of life.
Use your seat on the train wisely. Use it as they did, to impact the lives of those that you touch, whether you know them well or not. Try to make someone’s life a little brighter just for knowing you. Know that what you do, doesn’t have to be elaborate, in fact it’s the small acts of kindness that matter. Leave behind beautiful memories.
One last note. Another small gift Cheryl gave me sits on my desk at work. When she was struggling and down on herself, I would tell her to just believe in herself. She had all within her that she needed, she just had to believe. She gave me a canvas, she had a particularly rough 4 years, and things were starting to go better. The canvas reads, “She believed she could, so she did”. To Cheryl and Carl’s family, always believe that you can.
I am so grateful that our trains came together. As the years pass, we will continue to make memories, and share our memories of you.