Isn't grieving for the living? Do we really mourn for the one who's gone, or just our own sadness at that thought? I have to believe that Chereia's in a happier, easier, healthier place now. She had been through so very, very much in the past few months. I couldn't wish her back to that. But I would wish for time to hear her laugh which came from the soul, her warmth, her hold-nothing back kind of hugs, her exuberance, and her kindness. And also for her inordinate curiosity into others' lives, either through the OTR apartment windows or through watching her soap operas. I'd wish back her audacity: how she'd always ask questions for me that I was too hesitant to ask and how she was fearless enough to move to Cincinnati for a while. I'd wish back meeting at CiCi's Pizza to vent for a while, or for her to meet me in Monroe to help me grade papers and chat. I'd wish back how she was so willing to be friends with someone like me, someone from a background so incredibly different than her own.
But I have to be glad that at least she's not in pain anymore, that she's not relegated to an ICU bed any longer. What a sad existence for a vibrant girl in her early twenties! And she should have so much more than that.
So, Chereia Marie, I just want you to know that I can still hear your belly laugh and can still feel your encompassing hug. You and I won't meet again in this life, but God willing, we'll meet in the next. I love you, friend.
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