Uncurling

 

First Descents Fall Affair, me and my Moll.

In a cabin in Colorado, living it up

Her wedding, *mostly* on her own terms (her mom is also a force to be reckoned with)

Cold, waiting to start the Colorado Half Marathon, 2011

Vegas, Baby

at Maggiano's in Denver, one of her faves

Celebrating after the Really Big Free (ha!) Half Marathon

I haven't posted in a while.

Life, and the closing of the life of a most spectacular human being just kind of got in the way.

                                                             
                                                                  ^ this is my "Your argument is invalid" image

When I find myself feeling weepy or angry or self-pitying, I think of this.  Erica in clown shoes, her flapper hat, a hospital gown, an IV pole and a big smile.

I happen to know that she HATED being in the hospital that day (all the times she was in the hospital, in fact) but that she consciously made the decision to make the best of it.  A friend brought her the clown shoes and the rest is history.

In the days since February 23, when she finally lost her fight with fucking cancer, I haven't done a very good job of living up to her example.  I have, instead, found myself curling into a prickly little ball like a porcupine, attempting to protect myself from the sadness, the pain, the fury.  Now, I have decided to uncurl and to let in some light in the form of the love and support of all the other incredible people I am fortunate enough to know, who also loved her.

Lots of times, when someone dies, their loved ones will create a very pleasant, hazy memory of them as saint-like and set them up as something sort of false, but fairy-tale wonderful.  In this case, I defy anyone to find a person who did not leave Erica's presence better than before they met her.

Never can I hope to achieve the kindness and generosity of spirit that came so naturally to her -- frankly, it absolutely does not come naturally to me, but I will make it my life's mission to try.

What I'd like to ask anyone reading this to do, though, is to help find early detection methods and more effective treatment for ovarian cancer.  70% of women diagnosed with ovarian cancer are already Stage III (as was Erica) or Stage IV. 

Also, if you are so inclined, a group called First Descents has been important to Erica as a way for young adults (ages 20-40) who are fighting cancer to live life and not let it be defined by cancer.  They are a worthy recipient of any extra dollars/time you can throw their way.