More on this book
Kindle Notes & Highlights
WHEN ADULTS tell you about dying, they talk about your pet or an elderly neighbor, or your grandpa or your grandma. And when they tell you about dying, they tell you it’s okay to cry, they tell you it’s okay to be angry, they tell you it’s even okay to laugh & still have fun. But what they don’t tell you is that the sadness & anger & laughter don’t wait their turn. No. Sometimes sadness & anger & laughter come all at once, on the same day. Sometimes in a burst, sometimes a slow trickle.
If I live long enough to be an adult and if I have children when I am an adult I will tell them. And I will tell them that sometimes you go to sleep crying and wake up crying and that life after losing someone you love feels like one big ocean of sorrow and you might feel like you are drowning, but always there is something to hold on to to keep you afloat.
They know how death comes suddenly and without warning. How it is not always like the movies with last words spoken, final goodbyes, and the peaceful exhale of last breath. They know death comes quick, just after a hug, after an I love you that no one knows is the last I love you.
They know death comes and is not always fair. Sometimes, it comes in a brutal chokehold at the hands of someone who is supposed to protect and serve, serve and protect. Sometimes, it comes in mangled metal wrapped around a street sign because someone was too drunk to know they were too drunk.
Sometimes no one sees dea...
This highlight has been truncated due to consecutive passage length restrictions.
They got to say goodbye. They saw death coming. But not me. I didn’t see it coming.
“Choose five words from the list on the board that describe how you feel right now and write them down.” Sad. Lonely. Anxious. Tired. Guilty.
SAD BECAUSE we were supposed to go to our first Broadway play next week. Now I don’t even know if I am going to go at all. Lonely because the person who I always, always eat lunch with, walk to school with, walk home from school with, sit on the stoop with is not here. Anxious because I know bodies are fragile. Not as delicate as flowers or Aunt Ini’s china but still they break and shatter and become unrecognizable after they get hit and sent flying through the sky like a tennis ball.
Tired because tears can wear a soul out. Guilty because because because because my best friend died and it’s all my fault.
“Everyone experiences grief differently.” some embrace it some avoid it some talk about it some don’t want to mention it at all some cry a lot some sleep a lot some eat a lot some shout a lot some remember everything some forget it all some push the pain down some let it all out “There is no wrong way,” Ms. Carver says. “What’s important is to let yourself truly feel whatever you are feeling, even when it’s a joyous feeling. What’s important is to ask for what you need.”
My best friend died on my birthday. And a good day, turned into a bad day, turned into the worst day.
nothing can be as hard as talking about someone you love in past tense. Nothing can be as hard as knowing we both had a vision for our lives but only one of us is here to make her dream come true.
I TURNED thirteen. My best friend never did.
MUSIC KEEPS me company, chases the nightmares away, comforts me when I wake up crying, sweating, panicking . . .
“WHEN A PERSON dies, it’s normal to wonder what they were thinking, how they felt,” is what Ms. Carver told us one day in group when Ebony asked, “Is it weird that I want to know if my dad felt any pain, or if he knew he was dying?” “Questions are a part of grief,” Ms. Carver said. “Some questions will never be answered, but some will. You can write your questions in a journal or ask someone you trust. It’s important not to keep all those wonderings in your mind, it’s important to let them out so you can make room for other thoughts to come in.”
getting out of bed and starting the day is a reminder that my best friend is not waking up, is not waiting for me to explore the city, is not going to call or text to ask, Where you at? It is hard to get up in the morning. Partly because my body is tired, but also because my heart is tired too.
Sometimes, the memories will bring tears, sometimes a smile. The memories won’t always overwhelm you, they will bring comfort too.”
“But isn’t that a beautiful thing? To have experienced the kind of love that never truly leaves, that only grows and grows?”
Aunt Ini has cried and worried and prayed and dreamed and planned and failed and succeeded and laughed and celebrated and raised children and moved and worked and retired and vacationed and volunteered and read and sang and walked and talked and remembered and reflected and dipped her toes in the ocean and watched snow fall and got caught out in the rain and loved and grieved and every day she got up and every day she got up.
says grief can make people uncomfortable. “Friends might not know what to say. They may avoid you because they are too uncomfortable to talk about death.” She tells me, “Some people will treat you like you are fragile. They might forget that there is more to you than what happened. “Be patient with yourself. Be patient with the people who love you. Death and grief are hard for most of us.”
police brutality, death, rage, injustice, press conference, obituary, funeral, casket, hearse, graveyard, protest, indictment, trial, jury, verdict, guilty, sentence, involuntary manslaughter, memorial, closure?, closure?, grief, grief.
WORDS I NEVER thought about till my best friend died: hit & run vehicular manslaughter criminally negligent homicide cremation wake urn wreaths bereavement repast loss loss loss
I love math because in math there are absolutes, there are formulas to make sense of something, there are actually right and wrong answers. I wish there were an actual answer given when I ask why my best friend had to die.
MEMORIES, sometimes gentle like leaves dancing in the wind, barely off the ground then suddenly vanished.
Memories, sometimes a tornado that touches down with no warning, overwhelming and devastating.
I WANT the days to slow down. The more time passes, the more I am afraid that I will forget her. I want the days to slow down. The more time passes, the more people expect me to get back to my routines: homework and chores and plans for tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that. I want the days to slow down. The more time passes, the more memories I make without her.
“Every now and then it’s good to be a tourist in your own city. Makes you appreciate home and see what’s familiar to you through someone else’s eyes.”
“Not every person that comes into your life has a parallel experience to yours. We can’t all be mirrors of each other. There are people—like transversal lines—that cross paths with you, only for a moment. In that short moment, you connect, have something in common, but still, you have your own unique experience.”
Grief is about many losses.”
“Sometimes grief brings relief.”
A fallen angel. A flower whose petals were plucked away, tossed aside, with no care. All because she was such a good friend and wanted to make me happy. All because I was too afraid to tell the truth about why I didn’t want to go skating.
I was afraid that she was starting to like her coding friends more than me, her best friend. I was afraid of either of us making new friends. I was afraid of losing us, of losing her. But I lost her anyway.
WHAT’S even worse than knowing my best friend died on the way to my house to celebrate my birthday is knowing that while she laid on the ground, body disformed and dismantled, shattered to pieces but still beautiful, like shards of stained glass—I was angry at her. Kept calling her phone and texting her: Where are you? Did you end up going to the skate party without me? Why are you ignoring me? I can’t believe you’re doing this on my birthday. I’ve known you my whole life, I can’t believe you’re treating me this way. Hello? Hello? Hello? You know what? Don’t even come. Wherever you are,
...more
“How did you two become friends? What did you like to do together? What do you miss most about her?” And I answer them all. And the sadness lifts the more I tell how kind and smart and funny she was.
“I UNDERSTAND that someone they loved died, but it isn’t the same. They talk about months, weeks of goodbyes and quality time. I didn’t have that. Neither did DD or Ebony. And I’m tired of talking about it like it’s the same. “Why can’t you two just say, ‘I’m sorry that happened,’ or ‘Losing my loved one was hard too?’ I’d be okay with that. But to say you know how I feel, to say we are the same . . . no. You knew death was coming. You got to say goodbye.”
Grief is like hunger. Grief is like hunger. Grief is not something you get over. Every day it will show up. Every day I will have to tend to it.
OTHER QUESTIONS I have about losing her: What was she thinking as she laid on the ground? Did she know she was taking her last breath? Was I on her mind at all? Did she know how much I loved her? Did she know how much I loved her? Did I tell her enough? Show her enough? Was our friendship enough?
Turbulence is the bumpy feeling an airplane gets when hot air is rising or cold air is dropping. It can also be caused by encountering different terrains, like mountains or buildings.”
PILOTS SEE many shades of blue in the sky. Light blue. Medium blue. Vibrant, bright blue. White blue. Blue violet. A blue deep and mysterious, mixed with gray. A blue that melts and sheds and morphs into purples and pinks. Everyone likes those beautiful blue skies. But sometimes? Sometimes the sky is dark blue, black blue, midnight blue. And sometimes life is blue too. Blue is the empty chair at the desk in the classroom where my best friend used to sit. Blue is the ache in my heart when I pick up the phone to call her and remember she is gone. Blue is Aunt Ini’s warm hugs. Blue is a hot mug
...more
MAYBE, just maybe, blue, not red, is the color of love with all its mood and passion and emotion. For all the blues in the sky, there are as many blues in the heart.
“It’s okay to feel sad and angry. Something horrible happened to you. But don’t let that sadness and anger blind you from all the blessings that have come into your life. Those girls? They can’t—they won’t—replace your best friend. But I think it’s mighty special that they came into your life at this moment. Not to take the place of the love you had, but to show you that you are capable of receiving and giving love in all kinds of ways, from all kinds of people. We never run out of love, unless we let our hearts dry out.”
tulips are special. They represent new life, new beginnings. The arrival of tulips usher in a time for renewal,” she says. “A new season is coming. So many possibilities, so much unknown is on the horizon.”
SADNESS and happiness can (and should?) exist at the same time.
WHEN THE PERSON you really like (and maybe one day will love) kisses you, at first all you can think about is that it is finally happening and you worry about doing it right, worry that all the person tastes is the sweetness of your soul and not whatever you had for lunch.
When the person you really like (and maybe one day will love) kisses you, at first all you can think about is if anyone is watching and if they are, do they think you are too fast, or acting too grown, or showing too much affection in public. You wonder if maybe someone will walk by who knows your momma or daddy or auntie, and maybe by the time you get home the story of your first kiss will be family gossip and maybe you will get in trouble because you are not supposed to be kissing anybody— especially not outside, in a park, under a canopy of willow trees.
When the person you really like (and maybe one day will love) kisses you, at first all you can think about is the kiss and not the person, but if you let yourself, you will think of all the things you like about this person, all the ways the person makes you smile, laugh, think. And if you really, really like them, and if they really, really like you, the kiss is not something to cross off a list or brag about. Instead, the kiss is something to cherish. The kiss is something sacred.
When the person you really like (and maybe one day will love) stops kissing you, pulls away, smiles, takes your hand, and starts walking, all you can think about is the next time your lips will meet again.
it does no good to compare one person’s pain to another’s. What matters more is that we heal together
TAKING RESPONSIBILITY for my words reminds me how impactful words are. Speaking my truth lifts a weight off my soul.
TEARS FALL. A release. Relief and maybe some kind of peace. A letting go.
