I Would Hum For You If I Could

Last Wednesday, my friend and co-worker, Casey, disappeared. She was last seen leaving Barnes & Noble at 10:30pm in her white Outback wagon. Over the week following she was in the newspapers, on the television news, had her own website built to help find her. They showed pictures of her, of her car, of her two little sons. Please come home... We waited. We prayed - and we hoped for the best.

This morning her body was found outside of Lake Tahoe. They say, "no foul play was suspected." Well, I beg to differ.

Suicide or not, it's foul play. No one should ever feel that alone. Ever. And if they do, we're not doing our job as fellow travelers on this planet. There are two little boys without a mother, not to mention a husband without a wife. Seriously, not to mention him, but that's a story that I am not qualified to tell.

We all drop the ball somewhere. It's hard to keep track of all the balls in one's life, truly it is. But for the sake of our fellows, we must try to stay mindful. The world, particularly right now, seems mad enough as it is without remembering to care about our friends and families. Or even making a small, little effort every day; to smile at a stranger on the elevator who looks down, or to tell a co-worker that they're doing a good job, or maybe even tell a barista that you appreciate what they do for you every morning. The will to go on should never be taken for granted, but it is - it probably has to be or we'd all be living a bit too close to doom for comfort.

Too close for comfort: It was three years ago when the man I was just about to leave, my husband and the father of my child, became catastrophically ill and lay in a coma for four months with no skin, no ability to breathe, eat, pee or think on his own. Our daughter, who was almost phobic about illness already, was only 10 and in need of a lot of extra care. We had a new puppy that I couldn't bring myself to let go, as it would further traumatize our child. I showed up at the Burn ICU every single morning, washed and sterilized my hands and arms, put on a robe and some days a mask and went in to sit with him for hours on end, mesmerized and dumbfounded, just listening to the 13 machines he had in him whir and beep and alarm and hiss - only to leave and pick our daughter up from school and go back home to try to provide some semblance of "normal" life for us. Make dinner? Train the puppy? Then I'd wake up the next morning and do it all again. It was a sick time, and I was sick, and every morning I would wake up and stare at the ceiling, listening to the blood pump loudly in my ears and feeling my heavy chest swirl in what felt like impending insanity, beginning to sweat - my anxiety about simply existing through another day at a fever pitch. How on earth was I going to stay alive, much less function, for another day? Much less be a mom, or a friend, or a health advocate, or a collector of the social services I now needed as our income had ceased, or on and on and on. The buzz of insanity almost, ALMOST, outweighed the hum of the will to live. Many times.

Why did I survive and Casey did not? Crap. I don't know!! I just don't know. I would've hummed for her if I knew.

What I do know is that I'm sad, so heartbroken for her, for what must have been her last hours, feeling alone and choiceless, knowing that buzz and that hum, and how each works and works harder, crashing up against each other, only one to win out.

Sweet, beautiful Casey. I'm so, so sorry. We will miss you.

Please. Practice kindness.

Desiderata

-- written by Max Ehrmann in the 1920s --

Go placidly amid the noise and the haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible, without surrender,
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even to the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons;
they are vexatious to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain or bitter,
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs,
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals,
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love,
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment,
it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be.
And whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace in your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.