Remembering

I miss Rachel often and when I have things go crazy I wish she was here to tell me everything is going to be good. I can remember her smile and she would make me feel like the only person in the world.

Rachel

I am a childhood friend of Rachels from Lewistown and just learned of this yesterday. I am very saddened and hurt but am also glad to see she had a beautiful life with many friends that loved her so dearly. This was a terrible tragedy but I will always hold on to the geeky little girl with the big glasses that I loved so much. My thoughts and prayers are with her friends and family. 

With Love

Misty

going forward

I didn’t know Rachel very well, though she was one of the most important people in my dear friend Erika’s life.  A year ago I certainly did not know what to make of her death, other than the obvious: that it was an awful tragedy.  Worse, a terribly ironic tragedy.  It seems clear, from what little I did know of Rachel, that her time spent alone on the banks of the Mississippi were a personal celebration of life, an expression of her sense of her own vitality.  Perhaps it was a foolhardy expression, and I know, in the end, it was also a profound betrayal of the people that loved her the most.  But I don’t think I was alone in admiring the sense of personal freedom—of ease in the world—that it represented.  That she should have to pay for her sense of ease with her life seemed, and still seems, an unnecessarily cruel and horrifying fate.

Sometimes I find it very hard to reconcile myself to this life, to keep up the fight in the face of so much darkness.  For me, it’s hardest to understand how so much human life can be lost so easily—on the painfully intimate level, such as the loss of the Rachel, and on the global level.  Who would not be afraid?  But on this sad anniversary, at this dark time of year, I try to take heart from how Rachel rejected fear.  She would not want us to give up, despite the darkness.  She would want us to treasure every minute and go forward, facing our fears.

-Rachel #2

12/18/08

 Seems like the days are coming to represent the distance that is between us, girl

The ground is cold, wet and the sky is full of water and gray

There was a moment where I felt I could predict the future and I was the only one who knew what was to happen, less than a month from now and I ran to you

I ran to chiang’s to find you to tell you not to go out there that night-

Not to go out looking for yourself

Not to go walk on water

Because it wasn’t the kind of water that would wash it all away for you-

 Then I remembered- you wouldn’t be there.  There wouldn’t be another first time, of me walking in and suddenly seeing you after some years- some years that

would find you married and divorced, me; with a new love, one you briefly met as we strolled out of a theater- you with your future husband turned ex husband.

No, there wouldn’t be a moment of us crashing back into each others lives. 

The only sound I heard was the voice in my head telling me to keep driving forward- not towards you at chiang- but homeward to my pictures that proved you were

here with me for a split second..

i love you – girl

everyone knew there was something in everything about you

Coming upon a year

Dear Rachel,

Almost a year has now passed, and I’ve missed you every moment of it. The memories of our last hours together are arriving and closing in on me, only this time I have the knowledge of what could never have been predicted.  I am still very resistant of this reality, only slowly edging toward its acceptance.

Now it’s another cold and snowy Minnesota winter, melancholy and predictable in its unpredictable ways. I recall swearing I would never live another winter in this climate, after the last. We had talked on and on about moving away after your graduation, fantasizing about our options; mainly Hawaii, California, Oregon and Washington, so you could get your teaching license and I could find work in natural resources. I was so silly to think that they would come to fruition; what is life, but a dream.

What has been the point of so much of this life anyway? You were so filled with earthly knowledge, and the desire to gain understanding. All of the years we spend, all of your energy poured into selfless social politics. And in a moment’s time, it’s gone, or is it? I cannot pretend to know or have any understanding of life’s purpose. It is not for me to have faith in an unfounded belief, nor was it yours. But there is some system to this chaos of existence, and I have to respect that this knowledge is greater than the individual.

I have vivid memories of you and I bantering on the sofas in the living room, about the injustice and inequality created within human society. The whys and hows. You were always up to bat for the downtrodden, underrepresented, and disadvantaged. I played devil’s advocate to stir you up, and you’d shut up instead of argue with me. I’m sure the reality of human apathy was too painful for you, as it is still for me.

Sierra has missed out on far too many walks this year, to her dismay. The motivation that you had for taking care of others and creatures, and other’s creatures was so beautiful. I was so grateful for everyday that they had you; certainly it was an equal blessing to me.

I have many fond memories of our days. Like the night you returned home absolutely elated, floating on the adrenaline of having met your hero. After attending a presentation by Jonathan Kozol at Blake, he asked you to join him for coffee.
You had a life changing conversation with him, dropped him off at his hotel and returned ecstatic with his phone number! I recall how much that conversation had meant to you, how you called home to tell your mom, and how inspired it left you.

This past Thanksgiving Kevin mentioned to me that he was reading a Kozal book. I was embarrassed to be naïve, the subject matter not being my forte; I had always leaned on you for the knowledge. Thank you for providing me with it, and sharing your passion for justice and education with me.

You demonstrated courage, will, fearlessness, love, compassion, desire, and inspiration daily.

There are few people who live their lives with the legacy you left with; for most, as well as for me, it will only ever be a virtue.

Peace be with you -E

It’s been a year……

…to this day since the last time i talked to Rachel.  I’ve talked to her in my dreams a few times but it not the same. It was the night before Christmas eve.  She had just got done at CMT.  We hung out most of the night drinking wine at CMT and then to Chino for a cocktail.  She was beautiful and she used my phone to take pictures of everyone around.  My phone was new at the time and the pictures were great.  Especially from her point of view.

 Around this time has been extrememly hard and reading Toni’s last post, I almost started crying.  It felt good though.  There are two things i will remember around this time to do.   It is to not forget about Dow-wow and to really appreciate life and to focus on what i have more so than what i don’t have.  “Rachel, shine on my dear.  Much Love and always.” 

Thanksgiving

Today I celebrate 8 years of sobriety.  I recently heard a man say that addicts are the only people who want recognition for not making mistakes.  I agree.  Still, I celebrate for many reasons.  Most importantly, I celebrate the gift of life.  

So many things have occurred in my life and in our lives since Rachel’s death.  I think about her especially during special times.  I think about what she would say, how she would act, and of course, what she would wear.

 We all thought of her on May Day.  I imagined riding to the park with her, dancing while holding hands during the parade, and sharing the “oh so good, but we only get it once a year” food of…I can’t remember the name.  It was such a beautiful day.  I got a flat tire that day, and I know that had she been there, she would have remedied the problem immediately.  

The summer was busy and flew by.  My closest friends and family were with me at Azia for my birthday. Rachel would have been thrilled to get dressed up for the occasion.  We would have taken my new cruiser bike for a test ride.  In her unique way, she would have sat at the table, smiling, lovingly gazing at friends, and talking with my Mom.  My mom still cries when she speaks of Rachel.  

Rachel was the reason I ran the Twin Cities Marathon.  No doubt about it – she was the reason.  I spent much of my life thinking about lowering the bar, making life easier, more comfortable.  She had a different attitude.  Never mind the cigarettes, hangovers, and asthma.  Rachel ran and she ran hard and fast.  When I came to the 18th mile, to the place where we saw her pulled from the river, I felt her strength.  I felt invincible, capable of anything.  I imagined her there with my friends and family, cheering me on, running along side.  My family said that as I ran by, a bald eagle flew from her bench to the trees.  

I can also see her kissing and rubbing the ever-growing bellies of her two dear friends, Jenae and Kirt.  I saw her amidst the kids of the Chiangers at the babies shower, laughing, holding them, speaking to them in their own language.

I longed to talk to her about election night and the aftermath.  We would have talked for hours.

I still believed that she would walk through the dining room at Chiang Mai Thai for the Veteran’s Day Celebration.  Although I will forever be at home there, I’m always acutely aware of her absence.  She would have loved to see Brad, and he would have found just the right thing to say to make her laugh into hysterics.  No one laughs like Rachel.

There are so many things, so many.  I was in Macy’s, overcome with sudden grief, after seeing boots that looked like hers.  I wanted her there, at that moment.  I desperately wanted her there.

I do not want to take this life for granted, ever.  Rachel wouldn’t approve.  The pain, the suffering, the heart-breaks, the joy, the love, the laughter, the sorrow…this is what we know.  I don’t pretend to know what happens when we die.  Sometimes I want to know so desperately so that I can feel comforted by Rachel’s passing.  But I don’t know.  I know, however, that her life and all of her experiences set forth a force that impacted many, including me.  She impacted me so much.  And although I want her here more than anything, her death gives me a greater appreciation for my life, and a greater sense of obligation to waste no time, to help, to love, to give, to walk through it all with courage and strength, and to do so even when I am suffering.

Today, I celebrate life.

its been far too long and overdue

Missing Rachel hasn’t gotten any easier and I feel like an ass for not being able to come up with a blurb for this blog sooner, but such a small thing as this is way too big a deal to screw up, so my mind excuses itself. Needless to say summaries are not my forte.  Rachel meant so very much to me in ways larger than I ever realized, until I had to realize, then unfortunately it was too late.  I think about her everyday, and on most occasions the memories make me smile with gratitude.  Im am wondering why lately I have felt lonely and sad about Rachel’s absence, perhaps I am finally beginning to realize that this is a permanent thing and it sucks! and there is really no way to make sense of it in this limited scope of our short lives here on earth.  I hope she knew how much I loved her despite my bitter rants and crabby attitude.  I hope she knows her words, actions, love, and kindness did not go unnoticed, not even for one day, and that I will strive to become half the person of selfless compassion that she was regarding the world surrounding her.  I have many regrets, and I ponder many things, but I know for certain that Rachel was a survivor.  She had minimal fears, perhaps too few to keep her here with us.  Nothing is fair, and nothing will ever be fair, and we have to live now with this terrible loss, and yet I don’t remember a day that Rachel herself made a complaint about the unfairness of life, so I suppose I cannot dwell on something without an earthly resolution.  In her honor I will try to remain brave and strong, but as her friend I want to fall into her arms and rely on her strength as I was previously able to do. It may no longer be a physical reality but I know her strength is still within me. -E

Charity Auction in Rachel’s name at Chiang Mai Thai

one less

I feel like maybe, just maybe I’m ready to share something. It’s been especially tough for me because I’ve know her the entire 16 years of my life. Although Little Rachel and I weren’t the closest of cousins because of our distance, the time spent with each other was always an eye opening and refreshing experience.

A few weeks ago, I was having a typical before practice conversation with my rowing team. We were sharing silly stuff-like what we ate that day, and how much we really hated crew despite the fact that we showed up everyday to get our butt’s kicked by the little girl in charge (no doubt, me). Usually, these conversations don’t get to the point beyond frivolity. We tend to keep it at immature high school topics, but that day was different. It started with just a little comment, mentioning cousins. I don’t know how or why it came up, but we all started telling everyone how many cousins we had. I heard the numbers 0, 5, 3, 8 and 2. I laughed and rolled my eyes and responded with the heavy number of 16, more than most everyone that I know.

They all wondered why, so I casually say “We’re Catholic”, and go into the details of all my little (and big) buddies that I call my cousins. See: From my Aunts and Uncles, the number of children goes 5, 4, 3, 2 and 2 again on my Mother’s side.

I stop.

I no longer have 16 cousins.

Rachel’s dead, and this was the defined moment when I really had to accept that she was no longer with me.

Of course, I still refer to her as my cousin “Little Rachel”, but she is gone.

Quite upset, I become silent. I don’t believe it. I never got closure.

Next, I go online to read about it. I find the news that alcohol was involved, and I am devastated. It was her fault, and I actually believed that she deserved it. This angered me because it wasn’t that she just slipped, or even that it was foul play…she did this to herself and I couldn’t find it in my heart to forgive her. She left behind a huge family that loved her, and countless friends that adored her.

After this, I go to a friend, and try to make some sense out of the situation. I couldn’t, but she did a pretty darn good job of it. The way that she put it to me is that this is the way it had to be for her. Her personality wouldn’t have it any other way, and even though it was entirely too soon for her to go, big picture wise it would be alright.