Saturday, February 12, 2011

farewell my friend

 Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some people move our souls to dance. They awaken us to new understandings with the passing whisper of their wisdom. Some people make the sky more beautiful to gaze upon. They stay in our lives for awhile, leave footprints on our hearts, and we are never the same
~Flavia Weedn~
 so suddenly, unexpected, surreal, she is gone.
We art journaled every week together.
We had plans to live under palm trees (I did that one!)
We were living in Bellingham, Washington...we were Mermaids with dreams of sunny beaches, bikinis and Cabana Boys who delivered us Cosmopolitans, fresh paints, brushes and canvases and sushi by the sea.
She married her "Troll", Richard. 
I moved to Mexico. She had plans to come visit. Her illness kept her away. Then Richard lost his own battle against cancer. Now, two years later, she is dancing among the stars with him again...they are in search of Vegetarian Angels to plan a Valentine Dinner for. That's just how they were...he was planning the meal, beating the drum, and she was blowing balloons and sprinkling glitter and confetti everywhere. 
My heart has been cracked open and I am putting the pieces back together with giggles and smiles and tears and memories of my dear sweet Mermaid Angel, Sherri-Angie-Marks. 
~fly free~
Life is like a circle and someday, if we travel in opposite directions, we'll meet again 
Todd L. Bradbury


foxysue said...

A cracked open heart that's the price we pay at their parting, when we love so much.

Heart felt hugs to you,

Sue x

Teteel said...

Ι am so sorry for your loss.
She is dancing with her precious Richard now, i am sure.

sperlygirl said...

what a gift she is to your world, deb, may your many wonderful memories bring you comfort. sending love and light your way.xx

Karen said...

I'm so sorry for the loss of your dear friend and kindred spirit. What a lovely tribute - I bet she's sprinkling glitter down on you in thanks -

rebecca said...

oh deb...
your words here and love fill me and tug hard.
for you to express your love and loss so unabashed is to open all our floodgates.

the depth of our love becomes the deepness in our sorrow when we must let go of the physical connection.
even knowing there is more to all this...there is a birth in dying.
still it takes time to let go of the precious physical presence of those we love.

thank you for reminding us to hold others closer, speak of love more walk in the sacredness of now.

i love you my darling.
how perfect my heart would arrive this day.

how perfect life has given to us so generously.


Meri said...

She looks so familiar -- I wonder if she was one of the Bellingham people I drank margaritas with my first year at ArtFest(and the only year in the dorm). . . but perhaps it's only that I recognize an artistic, gentle soul intuitively. It's so sad when a dear friend departs this life and we're left wondering about the mysterious journey back to the Source that they're encountering. There are women friends that I still think of, years after their untimely deaths, and it reminds me that time is fleeting and we should hug each other at every opportunity. So -- hugs!

Kim Mailhot said...

Ah, Honey, I am so sorry that you have lost your friend, and so glad that you have those joyous moments spent in love, friendship and creation to get you through this loss. Big squishy hugs and smiling tears of understanding shared with you.
Love you !

Anonymous said...

Deb I'm so sorry for the loss of such an amazing friend. I wish I had all the words to bring you comfort. Your post is really beautiful and moving. My heart is with you... know I'm thinking of you.

I Love you,


Lyn said...

We will miss her - I will treasure the pottery pieces she made, and the memories of her incredible humor and grace in the challenges life brought her.

beth said...

oh deb...i am so sorry. i can only imagine how much you blessed her life....she knows your love !

Stephanie said...

I am so very sorry for thoss of your dear have such beautiful memories of her...hang tight to them


gwen j. said...

what a beautiful tribute. i have been remembering our fun time together at her house, laughing and drinking and being together. i have her pottery piece that she gifted me in my living room and it reminds me of her every day. such a giving spirit. she will be missed:)

Hashi said...

What a wonderful friend she was, and you are.

Gloria said...

I'm sorry for the loss of your friend. I visit Rebecca and Stephanie and I always see your name there. Just thought I would pop in and say hello. She looks like she was a very beautiful person. Anyone with purple hair had to be very outgoing. Again, my condolences, she is near you.

Summer Gypsy said...


This morning is my first visit to your blog. When I saw this post, it reminded me so much of a friend whom I shared so many fun times with for 28 years. She succumbed to cancer in Aug. 2000. Unfortunately, her illness stepped in. We were friends through giggly moments and salty tears. I now keep in touch with her grown daughter who shares her mom's joy for life. What a beautiful tribute to your friend. She must have been one truly amazing lady! Your words are so crystal clear about her talents and zest for life. So sorry that she had to leave, but, yes, she must be dancing among the stars today!

Nancy said...

Thank you for sharing.
“Perfection Wasted” by John Updike

And another regrettable thing about death

is the ceasing of your own brand of magic,

which took a whole life to develop and market –

the quips, the witticisms, the slant

adjusted to a few, those loved ones nearest

to the lip of the stage, their soft faces blanched

in the footlight glow, their laughter close to tears,

their tears confused with their diamond earrings,

their warm pooled breath in and out with your heartbeat,

their response and your performance twinned.

The jokes over the phone. The memories packed

in the rapid-access file. The whole act.

Who will do it again? That’s it; no one;

imitators and descendants aren’t the same.
Take care, Nancy