Why I'm starting this blog

I don’t really know where to start. So I’m starting here, a blog. If anyone ever reads this, they may judge me harshly. I would deserve it, but I am going to do this anyways in attempts to heal, honor my friend and cousin and hopefully educate any other stubborn fools that find themselves in a situation as I once did in hopes that they may understand that death is forever and there are no do overs.

On January 4, 2011 my cousin, who just happened to be the best friend I’ve ever had, the longest most consistent being in my life passed away from cancer. She was only 6 months younger than me and from the beginning of our lives, we were like one person. Although we were polar opposites, we were one. We were always both silly and crazy and had nothing but fun together. In fact, in all the years of our lives I only remember two disagreements.

We both were so innocent and silly growing up but my life took many twists and turns throughout the years and I became the wild, crazy, mess while she did everything right. But nothing could ever separate us. Although my family moved thousands of miles away when I was 11, we continued to write letters and talk always on the phone (which back then was a big deal cause long distance cost a small fortune).

Anyhow, to make a very long story fairly short, I was a teenage runaway, constantly in trouble until I ended up pregnant at 15. I dropped out of high school and got pregnant again at 18. She came out to live with me after she graduated high school due to some turmoil she was experiencing in her life (not caused by her). She was my coach for my second son’s birth and she cut the cord. We were roommates and continued to be even when I moved in with my boyfriend at that time. When I became the victim of domestic violence, she was there. She was my constant. She was the one person that could make me smile or laugh in even my darkest hours. I went through 3 kids from 3 different fathers, 3 marriages, 9 states and an endless amount of jobs. She did everything right. She truly did. She graduated high school, had tons of life-long friends, worked her way up the corporate ladder to be an executive at a bank, got married to the love of her life, had two beautiful children, built her dream home and in a flash it was all taken from her.

Over the years, through my many moves and life changing circumstances, we at times would lose touch briefly but when we’d speak again, it was as if we hadn’t skipped a beat. This was one of those moments. We hadn’t spoken in about 9 months or so. When I found out she had cancer, it was literally just months after I was misdiagnosed with cancer and went through an emergency total hysterectomy only to find out they were benign tumors. So when my sister called me with the news in which she had found out from Heather’s brother, she told me that Heather didn’t want anyone to know so made me promise not to tell her I knew.

I was so hurt and offended at that. Why wouldn’t she tell me? Why wouldn’t I have been the first call she made? Our lifetime of friendship immediately felt so small and insignificant. I was so hurt and told myself that it really must not be that serious and she may be going through what I was going through, misdiagnosis or something so didn’t want to involve the entire family (I hadn’t even called her with what I was going through cause it seemed pointless, the scare was over).

As the months passed, I started to hear she was really not doing well. She went through chemo and was in a bad state. Honestly, I just couldn’t bring myself to pick up the phone. I could not understand why she had chosen me out of such a significant part of her life. I was so busy taking it personally that I never called, even until the day she died. I have made many, many mistakes in my life and have always prided myself on the fact that I don’t live in the past, I choose to learn from my mistakes and move on. But this, this is a mistake I have not lived well with. This is the biggest blunder of my life. I still and forever will not understand why she did not call me with this news, to choose me into her situation but I cannot and will not lay any blame on her whatsoever. I was a stubborn fool. And to make matters worse, I never called her husband until 2013 because my shame was just too much. My sister told me that when she was in the hospital, she insisted on my picture being at her bedside. When her husband tried to remove it, she made him put it back and made him promise to leave pictures of her and I up at the house after she passed (which I’ve been told still remain). She was such a remarkable woman.

You never know how you will react when a loved one dies. She was the first person I have been close to in my life that passed away. For the first couple of years, I would not talk about it, I would banish any thoughts about it if they dared to enter my head. I chose to believe that it did not happen. I chose to convince myself that this was not real and we were just in one of our “quiet times” and would pick up where we left off soon enough. Then one night I had a dream of her. The dream was so crystal clear, I can still remember every single detail with frightening accuracy. She was standing at the end of a long hallway. The light behind her was so bright, it was hard to make out her features, but it was clearly her. She was motioning to me to come closer and was whispering something. I leaned forward with my body but did not move my feet. I asked her “what are you saying, I can’t hear.” She just kept motioning for me to come closer but I couldn’t move my feet and after a while of this I said to her, “I’m afraid to come over there.” So she put her head down, turned and walked away.

That was it for me. I woke up crying. I cried for days and the reality that the best friend I had ever had, the person that looked up to me and never realized it was me who looked up to her, my smart, loyal, loving, positive, silly, crazy little cousin Heather was gone.

Finally in 2013, I was able to call her husband and we had a great conversation. He was very forgiving, although forgiving myself has been a much harder feat. I was able to speak to the kids which was lovely and painful. We don’t talk as much as we should and I know that is my fault as well.

But today it finally hit me. What can I do to honor Heather? What can I do to not only honor her but begin a path to forgiveness for myself? She is gone. I have accepted that. My diagnosis ended in life while hers did not. My life was granted while hers was taken. I will never know why. What I do know is that it is my responsibility to her to live each day with intention. I will begin a journey of the next 365 days to do one thing each day that she is unable to do. I will not plan it out. I will just let each day decide for itself. I will take chances and try to do things that are new to me as well. I will incorporate pictures when I can. I will live for her, even if just for a few moments in my day. I am sorry Heather for thinking, behaving and reacting the way I did but I thank you for loving me through to the end.

I love Heather G.A.L. and I hope that wherever her spirit lives, she is watching and smiling.