It's so nice to "speak" and I feel so badly for not being in touch. In general, because I love you so dearly and I realize there's little way of you knowing that if I never write or call. I love you. Lest this email get too long and the point is lost. And specifically, I know the loss of your dear friend has been so tough for you. I wish I could say or do something to lift your heart. Death is just so final and moreso for those of us left behind, so lonely.
There's an old Buddhist story (okay, all Buddhist stories are "old" I guess ;-) about a mother who refused to acknowledge death. In her case, the loss of a family member. She went to the Buddha and demanded he do something. She refused to admit that death was so complete and without reversal. The Buddha finally relented and said "Bring me back a black sesame seed, and then I can reverse death". Delighted, this woman went from village to village searching in vain for a black sesame seed.
Finally, certain she'd misunderstood him she returned to the Buddha and said, "You must be mistaken there's no such thing as a black sesame seed". And the Buddha said, "Just as there's no such thing as reversing impermanence. It just is". I remember when Dorothy died. Dad called me from the hospital room, literally moments after she passed. Funny, but I was meditating when he called. Afterwards, I went outside and just walked around. I felt fairly at peace until I suddenly realized I'd never hear her voice again. It was odd, the theory of death made sense, but the real life emotion was truly it's own experience and demanded it's own respect.
I hope that in the pain of your heartbreak, you can truly let yourself feel how much you love. How much you loved your friend, and how much you miss her. Any other story or conversation isn’t worth the paper it's written on. Her death, your friendship together and now, your grief all demand the respect of acknowledgement. I'll shed a tear, too. For our Dorothy's, our Trungpa Rinpoche's, our Louisa's. Here's a toast--actually, I'm drinking right now. I woke up and do believe I'm having my first aneurysm, lol. My left eye is twitching and I feel like the scarecrow from Oz, nothing about my body quite works right. It's 2pm on a Wednesday so in true Fabbro spirit I figured "Hey, if I'm passing on so be it, but I'll be damned if I'm going out sober".
So I raise my mid-week, icy cold margarita to us all, living and gone. Hahaha, as Dorothy would say "To those who love us may they love us. To those how don’t, may god kick them in the ankle so we know them by their limp...". And in addition, I'd say, those who love us, know us by our limp. And our limp is that of broken hearted warriors who miss their own. And who raise a glass, knowing someday, sometime soon those who love us will raise their glass to us. Then they'll limp home with the heartbreak of missing us. And so it goes. But for god's sake, let's not go out sober...shall we?
Love and miss you dearest Fay,
Dana
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