She found out last May, right after getting engaged to her fiance. We only were told once she was in hospice care. I don't mind, cancer is rough, it takes a lot out of you. Plus, we weren't close any more.
Heather, Ryan, and I were so close to Rachael and Paul. They lived in Pennsylvania about an hour and a half away from us in Ohio. We hung out all the time growing up. We went on trips, to the beach, played video games, and just generally caused chaos around my mother's house.
Those memories that I have and that familial love I have for them are/is very strong. I regret letting us slip out of communication. I still followed her life on facebook and watched her grow from this kid to a 27 year old woman who was smart, happy, and surrounded by wonderful people. I was proud of my younger cousin. I loved her. I rarely told her that but I figured she knew.
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Today I went to a psychic fair and the person reached out to talk to my father. I didn't get much but she said he was very "dry" and "sarcastic" with the images she was showing him. I didn't tell her this but Dad and I used to watch ghost hunting shows. The hunters ask for knocks and occasionally they get them to responses to questions. Sometimes at night while I am crying my face off and screaming for my dad into my pillow I calm down and ask/demand he give me proof I will see him again by knocking for me. Sometimes I convince myself I hear them. I never told anyone that, but I am telling you.
Anyway today one of the things the psychic said was, "Do you hear knocking?"
"No," I responded.
"Dennis says he is knocking for you."
And I didn't really make the connection until tonight when I was cuddled up with my boyfriend - I didn't make the connection that maybe Dad was answering me after all.
I know in my heart that death is not the end. I know because I see and hear things that cannot be explained. I know because I read tarot cards and speak to the dead myself. But sometimes it is easy to lose faith with the pressure of living and getting by. I am only a human and I make mistakes and I struggle as does everyone. I try my best to be a good person, to treat people kindly, and I am lucky to have only good people in my life. But even surrounding yourself with positive people and being positive yourself it is hard to be optimistic about seeing your dead best friend again. But I know I will. I know that I have to.
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Here are my dad and my simple tips for enjoying the short life that you have:
Tell people that you love them.
Cut out negative people. Surround yourself with positive and fulfilling people who see the best in you.
Do work that makes you happy inside and do it well.
Remember that life is too short to be in situations that are unhealthy and get out.
Don't let people disrespect you and treat people with respect.
Don't lie to people and live your life honestly.
Remember that in any situation, no matter how dire, you can always land on your feet. (It is in your Harris genes anyway)
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Anyway, I miss so many people my Dad, Matt, Rachael, my grandfather... I feel like I am walking through a graveyard when I think of them. But there are no purple roses to lay on the graves. (Matt and I laid flowers on graves for Day of The Dead in 2009) So when I think about graveyards I think about purple roses and I think about him.
Memories are hard and people can't come back and things can't be the way you want them. I have trouble with that. I am 29 years old and even my adult brain keeps telling me to just scream for my dad to come back. I know it won't work. But it doesn't mean I don't really just want him to come back. I told this to my boyfriend today that death hurts me so much that it feel like it is going to tear open my chest. I love too hard and too much. Even with the passage of time.
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