In Rememberance

Today, I remember Marie.  She died four years ago today, around 10pm, after a nearly two year struggle with leukemia.  I can't remember hardly anything about what I was doing, career-wise.  I can't remember much of anything, actually, except for Marie.  I spent a lot of time at hospitals, and a lot of time vomiting in the bushes outside the hospital.  I don't think I ever got over the vomit-first impulse that my body has when it gets near a hospital.

There were good times and bad times.  The good times were great.  I got a lot of pleasure out of seeing Marie's attachment to a teddy bear (from Godiva) that she hilariously named Hershey (that we gave her).  To tell you the truth, I thought her short hair was really punk rock, and I didn't miss her long hair at all!  I remember us going to see the baby great white shark at the Monterey aquarium with my brother.  The jellyfish tank RULED, and that section of the aquarium got a lot of explanations from Marie, whose primary research was in invertebrates.

I remember a horrifying ICU visit that will probably haunt me until I die.  I remember her lamenting that she would never kiss another boy again.  And I remember crying myself to sleep on many an occasion, wondering why people so young have to die?  It is *never* easy to watch someone die.  Even less so, a person in the prime of their lives.  I remain forever indebted to the friends who stood by me in my need.

But today, I think of Marie.  I miss you.  We all do.