Eight

Dear Zuni,

Find myself baking a pair of pies because I didn't think through how putting them off till after I got back from dinner would adversely affect my sleep schedule. Midnight's rolled past, and I realized the date had rolled over as well. I can't pretend that I hadn't already been hyper aware of its looming, but part of me had been trying to ignore what it meant. 

Typically I find myself waking up on this date contemplating taking up drinking temporarily and wishing to remember only the good stuff and not the phone calls. Even that wish makes it worse. 

Time hasn't erased the pain of that day 8 years ago, but it has managed to take the edge off. It doesn't hurt to breathe, and most of the time people can't see how damaged I am. Most days I can wake up, find the good, be grateful to be alive, and make the best of what God's blessed me with, but today will hurt. 

In a few minutes the second pie will be done, I'll clean up, and I'll get myself to bed. The problem will be waking up in a few hours and trying to face this day. 

Most people (and God bless their good luck and healing) won't realize what today is. Most people won't realize 8 years ago today we lost a brilliant author, aspiring filmmaker, true romantic, poet, and my best friend.  I still read your poetry and our emails and notes from time to time. In those moments you still seem close, and I wonder if I'll always remember your laugh. 

Thank you for being the one man who saw the whole of me, and the one man who told me I was beautiful without ever being prompted. I am grateful for the memories I have, the stories, and for your faith in me. The next time I see you, I hope to have some great stories for you and to have proven you right about me. 

I miss you, Zuni. 

Love,

Ms. Cheatwood

Ps. I wrote a children's book about an armadillo. Hoping to get it published sometime soon. I think you'd like it. 

Pps. David and Kelsey got married. You'd have loved their wedding and reception. It was beautiful and hilarious and fun. We missed you. 

Where Have All the Wizards Gone?

A Jennie Lee Montgomery photo...is she not amazing?

As you may have noticed, I added a terribly cheesy off-the-cuff bit of poetry...

I use to be a writer.
A good one.
A good one becoming better every day.

Now, I'm a girl watching lightning bugs.  Watching the light fade behind the trees and wishing I could be part of the melting colors of the sky or the faded twinkle of the stars playing peek-a-boo with the night sky.

I miss writing poetry with real feeling, but I think I'm out of practice.

Tonight is a lot of cheerful hope mixed with underlying sadness for front porch talks gone by.

Nights like this make me miss Zuni's poetry and magic.  Few people have ever inspired me the way he did, and I miss that sense of wonder, talking in code, coming up with metaphors to describe love, and the advice.  More than anything I miss the advice.

Where have all the wizards gone?

Those wizards that could bring to life your idea or breath fire and light into the heart of you?  Spark magic into life?

I was never afraid when I had words of comfort, laughter, and hope to lean on.  I miss the reassurance that I was something perfect and magical myself.

Years of my life have changed much and much remains the same.  My heart bears more scars, but I look at them with a great deal more kindness than I thought I would ever have the grace to.  I love that they all tell stories of my greatest attempts...even if some were failures.

I fall in love with everyone I meet, and now I am at peace with this.  Someday it will not be love felt alone.

I need you so much closer...I need you so much closer...I need you so much closer

Here's Looking At You

My beautiful friend, Emily sent me the above picture recently.  She said it reminder her of me.  It, naturally, appeared the exact day I needed a reminder.

As I have said before, and I shall say a million times before I die I'm sure, my best friend always told me to live life without regrets.  He was right; that's the only way to live.

The thing about this picture, this saying, is that it came, as I said, on exactly the day I needed it.  Amber has been trying to convince me that I need to recognize that the boy I am love with was brought into my life for a reason.  We were supposed to connect.  Clearly I got the wrong memo on how deeply we were supposed to connect, but clearly we were supposed to connect.  She kept saying I needed to remember to focus on the good and learn from the rest of it.  I shouldn't regret this relationship just because it feels like it's ending.  Maybe it was never meant to be a permanent thing, but good would come out of it.

Then Em sent me that.  God speaks.

He consistently amazes me.  Sometimes I ask the question so many times that I forget to listen.  And then I run face first into the answer.

For days now I have been trying to find some kind of purpose to the relationship I had with this boy, this man.... Today I realized something, he is what led me to actually start taking an interest in myself.  Sure, I still am not completely happy with myself (as anyone who has ever read anything I write might be able to tell).  Because I adored this man, I began taking some pride in myself.  I wanted to be my best because I felt that is what he deserved, and if I wanted to be loved by him, I wanted to be someone he could love.  Yeah, maybe that's a little screwy, but I think it has begun good things in me.

Because of my relationship with this man, I finally forced myself to ask God to help me figure out exactly what I should be looking for in my future spouse.  More importantly, maybe, I have been asking God to shape me into the woman He wants me to be so that I can be someone I am proud of and therefore someone my future spouse can be proud of as well: physically, emotionally, financially, spiritually.  It's been a major boost in my relationship with God.  I want God to be the center of my life.

Maybe this relationship didn't work out the way I had hoped, well, obviously it didn't, but it has done a lot of good in my life.  It has triggered major change and growth for me, and I am grateful.  Even if I never get to tell him, I hope he knows I am grateful for the friendship we had.  I hope I was something good in his life as well.

Find the good, and really, my loves, live life without the regret.

And lastly, here's looking at you, Sunshine...er, Kid...

This I Remember

When I was a senior in high school I was in this amazing class that truly changed my life.  It was an English class.  We would read poetry or stories or novels and then write response papers for the next class.  Then the 7 of us would sit in a circle of desks with our teacher who was this incredibly crazy, but brilliant bald man by the name of John Vincent Young, and we'd discuss our ideas and thoughts and feelings about a certain piece.

But, though that did a great deal to improve my writing and my appreciation for the written word, this wasn't how the class changed my life.  No, what changed me was the giant boy with long curly hair that was so dark it was bordering on black who was a poet and a romantic to the truest extent.  His name was Jacob Zuniga.  And without ever really intending to, we became best friends.

It still amazes me.

Zuni was one of the most popular boys in our school.  Formerly a football player until a knee injury made further play impossible, he knew everyone and everyone loved him.  He was a born story teller and comic, and he could make anyone feel important.  His girlfriend once used a quote from "The Big Lebowski" to explain him, he like "that rug really pulled the room together."  Odd as that may seem, that's probably the best way to describe him that I have ever heard.

I miss him every day.

Today is September 11, 2011.  And I remember what happened 10 years ago.  I won't ever be able to forget it.  I was 15.  I was a sophomore in high school.  I was in first period algebra with Mr. Rolondo when the first plane struck.  We were watching coverage on the news when the 2nd plane struck.  I saw it happen.  Those images never go away.  I remember the questions and the crying, and I remember, very distinctly wondering if this meant we were going to war and what that would mean.  I remember wondering if the guys surrounding me would be going to war, and even worse, if my brothers, my best friends, and the boy I was sure I wanted to marry (I was 15, remember) would go to war too.

And we did go to war.  We're still at war.  Sometimes I wonder if this war is in competition with Vietnam to see who can be drug out longest without any kind of satisfying conclusion.  And many of my friends have gone to war.  A friend of mine just finally got out of the air force after being in for 6 years.  I hate this war.  I hate knowing about the things my friends have seen or gone through trying to protect the United States.  And I hate knowing that people are dying for this thing all the time.  Innocent people, good people, bad people, poor people, rich people, children and adults.  All kinds.  People are dying.  10 years of this.  Is this worth it?

All I know is that I remember.

But what I want to remember is the good.  What I try to remember is the way this amazing country pulled together.  How we donated blood and clothes and food and time and energy to help people rebuild.  How we searched the wreckage for survivors and cheered when they were found.  How we mourned together over the dead, those we knew and those we didn't.  How we supported the men and women who serve in the armed forces, even if we didn't believe in war.

We have gone through so much as a country in 10 years.  Hurricanes, tornadoes, wildfires, plane crashes, blizzards, landslides, and so many disasters, but if we learned anything from tragedy it is this: we will survive and we will take care of each other.  The love I see in this nation is overwhelming.  We are learning to take care of each other a little better all the time, and I find hope in that.

Beyond all of these memories, this day reminds me very much of all the people that I have lost in the past 10 years. A best friend, a girl who might as well have been my little sister, several classmates, 2 kids who were best friends with my youngest brothers, several great aunts, a boy who I had taught in youth group, and several very beloved elderly church members.

Zuni is what I remember and think of most.  I ran across something he wrote for me just a month and a half before he died.  My best friend was a genius, especially when it came to matters of the heart, and this particular letter was no less a gem.  I ran across it again this evening when going through some old papers, and it made me miss him so much my heart about burst.

So as a parting thought, something good to remember, something that my brilliant, amazing, wonderful best friend once said to me that I hope will do you as much good as it does me:

"In closing thoughts, love is blind.  We don't choose who we love, or who loves us back.  It's something we can't explain.  When you're away from your love, you start thinking about it.  You sit back and wonder what the hell it is that makes you work, that attracts you to them, and although you have a few ideas, it's nothing solid.  You've bunches of friends with the same qualities.  What makes them so special?  You sit and you wonder, but it's all in vain, for when they're back and in your arms, you know.  What, I'm not sure, but you know that this is right and that you were wrong for questioning it.  I guess that's true love, above all else: having faith.  Right now, I don't know what I'm doing.  I'm living for my weekend binge, for those few choice hours when I'm there and she's there and something as old as the sun but as new as our lives is there enslaving us.  I know that I die every time I see her because I know I have to say goodbye.  I know that I die every time I hug her, every time I kiss her, every time I look into her eyes and see myself.  I know that sometimes I don't remember what I've done during the day because all I've done is think about her.  I know that she's the last thing in my mind at night and the first when I rise.  She literally is the girl of my dreams; she visits every night.  I've sat on the sidelines and wondered why her, why this, and I should never have done that, for when I see her, when I talk to her on the phone or read her e-mails, I know.  I can feel it in my heart and in my mind, and I know this: this is real.

Have faith in yourself and your love.  Know that no matter what happens, you will be together again.  There is no end if it is real, no stop and start.  You'll become so entangled that you won't be singular anymore, won't be alone.  There will come a time when the roots of two trees will connect underground and form a vast village of matter, until there no longer are two trees, but one singular unit living via the other.  That's love, or at least, that's the best way I can describe it."

This I remember.

Snippets of Conversations (Other Peoples' Words)

"You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope." - Jane Austen, Persuasion

"You guys are way too pretty to not have boyfriends!" - Katie, age 9, to Amy Cunningham and I at MN Camp

"I'll do your hair for your dates when we're at ABC," said Shelby Upton as she was doing my hair for Miiitch and Kimmie's wedding...

And when I gave her a funny look and said with a sigh, "Yes..."

Replied with, "Oh, you will have dates...as soon as Sam gets a brain. You will have dates."

“How do you tell a person that they’re magical,
That there are no favorites—that you love them as a whole?”
-Jacob Zuniga, “I Should’ve Stayed Home and Done my Calc”

J.D.: [narration] There are a few things I've always believed in. Flowers are good for any occasion. And nothing is more important than making time for an old friend, especially if the old girl has seen better days. Because even if it breaks your heart to be "just friends," if you really care about someone, you'll take the hit.
-Zach Braff, “Scrubs”

“My pride shut me up, my hurt shut down, and together they ganged up on my hope and let her get away.”
-Nick in Rachel Cohn & David Levithan’s Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist