Take My Heart With You

Her toes were tucked underneath the sofa cushions, and she was only wearing underpants and a pajama top. Her face was pressed against the floor, and even after I walked over and shook her a few times, there was no response. I reached down and took her hand, and that's when I noticed her knuckles were turning blue. A cold, empty feeling washed over me, a feeling that couldn't be shaken, and a fear that was very real. My friend and roommate of six years had passed away in my living room in the middle of the night.

I ran and got my roommate, and he tried to rouse her as well, even though we both knew she was gone. Still, human nature makes us fight for life, our own and others that we love, in a way that doesn't always make sense. Calling 911 made no sense either, but we called, and the paramedics arrived shortly after that, moving furniture aside and relieving us of our efforts to revive her. We watched in shocked silence as the paramedics attached all types of equipment to her in a valiant effort to bring her back around, but I knew it was too late. I couldn't stand there and watch forever, so I went outside on the porch and lit a cigarette. My friend Donna loved to smoke, and I would always give her grief about hot boxing the cigarette when we had to share, and I paused to look at the ashtray, wondering if she had at least been able to have a last smoke before she died. A shiver went through me as though death itself had passed through my body, but the total realization of what was happening had somehow bypassed me at this point. I was in total shock.

It was beginning to get light outside, and I had been trying to call her brother in Arizona to let him know and I didn't want to leave a message on his machine, so I continued to dial the number and asked him to call me. As I opened the sliding glass door to come in, I saw that all the equipment was being put away, and she was officially considered dead. Now all we had to do was wait for the coroner. Once the coroner officially declared her dead, they could remove the body. "The body" stuck in my mind as I thought about everything. Just that day she and I had laughed together, gone to the market together and bought food, and watched our soap opera together. We did everything together, and had done everything together for the past six years. That day, we shared potato chips and soda, and now she was simply, "the body".

The room had grown eerily quiet. The paramedics were outside the door, and my roommate was back in his room, so the only people left were me and Donna, her lying so quiet and still, and me slowly falling apart inside.

We met in subsidized housing, and both were happy to find a cabin by the lake in Vallecito that got us out from under the rules and regulations of the subsidized housing. We had been through so much together, horrible fights when we were new roommates, and better communication after a few bad encounters that turned into days filled with walks by the lake, card games, music and our daily soap on television. Every year the snow got so deep that we had to tunnel to the mailbox, and our car would get stuck behind a local restaurant for at least a month. Pretty soon we got tired of the snow and the cold, and, the high prices charged for food and basic needs at the local store, so we left the lake, but the move was not kind to us. We had a roommate who threw us out on a cold and snowy Christmas Eve, and we found a small trailer in the nick of time, but ended up sleeping on pillows on the floor because our furniture was in storage. Still, it was warm and safe and that was all that mattered.

The managers of the small trailer rented us a bigger trailer with a huge yard, which we proceeded to turn into a grassy paradise surrounded by flowers and bushes. I will always miss walking around and visiting the flowers and garden first thing in the morning. It as like taking a walk in Heaven.

I looked over at her body; her face showed no emotion and her lips were starting to turn blue. The coroner finally arrived, and it was obvious "the body" had passed away, but she had her job to do. Once she made her official declaration, she gave me her card and left. A long, heavy contraption was brought in, and it reminded me of a canoe. They picked up my friend, and then asked if I wanted the blanket she had under her, and of course I did not. She was wrapped in the blanket and put in the long contraption, which was then tightened around everything so the paramedics could carry her down the two flights of stairs to her last ride in this life. I closed the door and stared at the room and wondered how all of this happened, why she died, what caused her death, and all the normal emotions we all go through like wondering if I'd been good enough to her and what the last thing I'd said to her was, and mostly, why hadn't I heard anything sooner? Maybe I could have saved her life.

I didn't go back to sleep, but spent the day with my roommate on his bed, both of us sad and still in shock, and left wondering why and what had happened. We went to sleep early, and the next day is still a vague blur to me. I spent a lot of time crying, and a lot of time trying to convince myself she wasn't really gone but had stayed behind in Cortez and was there if I wanted to go see her. Imagination is a wonderful gift. Still, the reality of it was she was gone and I was left with her storage unit to figure out and all her belongings to sort through. I did my best, but my heart ached the entire time, and even though I know we all die and sometimes nobody knows why, it's still a hard thing to deal with.

I have lost three good friends, my parents, and pets. Each loss hurts in its own way, and each of us grieves in our own way, but I learned to never take anyone for granted, to think about what I say to others, and to remember to let the people I love know how much I love them and how grateful I am to have them in my life. I guess every event in life teaches us a lesson.

Goodnight my friend, I will see you again someday.