This picture is from October, 2011, when my husband Bruce, his brother Jeff, and our friend Pam went to Napa. Pam’s hand is in the lower right in the picture. You can see how swollen it is in spite of the lymphedema sleeve peeking out from the bottom of the frame.
It was Pam’s idea to take the picture of our hands raised in one of our many toasts. She knew we were making memories to last the rest of our lives, in her case, six months. She gave framed copies to all of us for Christmas.
It’s been a year since she left us, a year filled with memories and disbelief that she’s actually gone. We started letting go of some things and hung to others as long as we could. Bruce still has a picture of Pam as his cell phone wallpaper. I swapped mine out a few months ago, but like him, saved her texts. When we went on our second pilgrimage to sleep with the sandhill cranes in March, we planned to laugh over the text messages she sent on our previous trip. We were both shocked to see her text messages had disappeared. It felt like she was being erased.
The song “Seasons of Love” from Rent asks how you measure a year, or 525,600 minutes. “In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights’–then asks “How about love?” and urges us to “Celebrate” and “Remember a year in the life of friends, Remember the love!”
525,600 minutes later it still hurts like hell, but we remember the love.
My other posts about Pam:
- The Gift
- Racing Against Time
- What Survives of Us
- A Death in the Family
- A Tale of Two Metastases
- ArtBra KC Defies Cancer, Celebrates Life
- Poem: Warrior Princess