Lacy

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I’m not sure what reminded me of her tonight. It could have been an email, the songs that I know she loves that were playing, or just the fact that I still have her as a livejournal friend, 2 years after her death.

I just miss Lacy tonight.
 
I started re-reading her entries after thinking about her, and realising that I hadn’t thought about her much since her death. Bizarre to think of it being over 2 years ago, and horribly unfair still that she’s gone.
 
Lacy died at 21 from Ewing’s Carcinoma. She was incredibly vibrant, passionate, talented and so much fun. We were going to go to RENT together in NYC on my 2006 US trip, but she died 3 weeks before I was due to leave. When I went to the show, the seat next to me was oddly empty, in a full auditorium. And no, I didn’t buy the ticket.
 
I can’t listen to RENT without thinking of her.  Lacy, you were amazing and so full of life, and I still treasure your journal entries. It’s so unfair that you’re gone. The world is much less cooler without you in it.
 
Cancer sucks. She always said it made her stronger, and more grateful, and made her live life differently. But it still sucks.
 
Excerpts from her journal..:
“…I should be at a loss for words. This whole thing just makes me angry. I have never outright hated something so much as I do this disease. I hate it with all of my soul… It hurts and it hates and it doesn’t discriminate and there is no getting around it. If your cells decide to turn on you, they do, and I hate it! No one deserves this disease, no matter what kind of person they are.”

Ewing’s Sarcoma is a bitch, and I hate it, but it’s also one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. It’s made me appreciate life so much more, and made me [a] stronger person. I know that I can overcome anything placed in front of me. I’m petrified, no doubt. But it’s not going to stop me from living life to the fullest.”

Well then. Huh.

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Life.. life continues to stump me. Mere hours after my last post, about the happiness of my day, my mother bursts into my apartment to tell me that my auntie has passed away. I’m holding plates in both hands from the dishwasher, and I just look at her and wave them around, blinking. I hug her with plates in my hands. I don’t know what to say.

The week has been tough so far. The service is Friday.

I’ve had someone die every 6 months or so for the last.. I’m losing track of years. I can’t stand it. It sucks.

But for some reason, life continues to chug on around me. I continue to work ridiculous days, get chores done, plan for my UK trip in 4 weeks. Some things are on auto-pilot.

But there are those times when I’m alone, and I’m just flabbergasted. Blown away. Who could have seen this coming? We were so sure it was, and then she was good, and then she was gone…

It also seems more and more definite lately that I’m going to be packing up my life again next year and moving to Scotland. I couldn’t have seen that coming, either. My life has become impossible to predict, and slightly ludicrous at times.

At the moment, I’m just rolling with it.

Forever is tomorrow is today

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Rachel started babysitting us when I was 7 years old. She must have been about 19.

She became a hairdresser, working for several salons in Lower Hutt and Wellington, and took my sister under her wing, staying friends with her as we grew up.

She’d come over every 4-6 weeks or so and cut my Dad’s hair. She coloured and cut mine many times. She coloured and cut hair for my mother and sister every month.

She had a baby girl about 3 years ago, and called her Lexie. She had two major relationships. Married once to her teenage boyfriend, then later on in life got serious with George.

She’s always had skin cancers, always had them removed, had treatment.

But about 6 or so months ago, they couldn’t treat them just by removal any more. She started chemo and radiation. Mum would drive her to her appointments.

She still called, still came and did Dad’s hair when she felt well enough. She refused to believe that she would lose the fight.

Four-five weeks ago the cancer went to her brain. Two weeks ago she went into hospice care.

Yesterday, she lost the fight.

So..

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Dear Lord.

It’d be really swell if we could go 6 months without someone else dying. I’d also really love this job I’ve been preparing so hard for, and to finally find someone to have a healthy relationship with.

2007 so far hasn’t been so great. Can we wipe January out of the books?

Cheers,

Kat

She will be loved

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I don’t know him really well. I’ve been wanting to, but it just hasn’t worked out. I’ve been chatting to him most of the year. I remember feeling slightly disappointed when I found out he was dating someone in another department at work. It’s not that I wanted to date him, but there is something intriguing about his character.

I walked arm in arm with him one night when we were both tipsy, and I’d bought him cigarettes. I told him in that alcohol-induced oversharing way, that I’d wanted to be friends with him, but was scared off by his girlfriend. He said it wasn’t an issue, and that I should come out again sometime. We haven’t really spoken since apart from our daily hi and bye, and I wonder if he thinks I’m a bit of a dork.


I haven’t seen him in nearly 3 years, but he emails me almost every day and if I slip up in contact, he always drops a note to say hi. He’s 11 years older, but often we seem the same age or he seems younger (I guess it’s that inner child). I’ve known him since I was 13 and I just can’t imagine life without him. Our next visit is nearly 6 months away, but we talk about it every week. It’s nice that someone is excited about seeing me, even when there’s still so long to wait (then again, I’ve waited longer for someone). There’s always that little indication that we could be more than friends someday, but we never take anything seriously. We don’t really take life seriously.


He drives me around, even to places out of his way. He picked me up and took me to the doctor one day after I collapsed at work. I trust him with all the big things, and more importantly, all the little things, that matter to me. He laughs when I’m dirty, groans when my jokes are too terrible for a response. He listens to my songs and sings along in his car. He’ll never really know how much he means to me, cause I’ll never get around to telling him well enough. He’s the one guy I know will never break my heart.


He knows who and what he wants to be, but not quite how to get there. But he works hard at everything he does, even the relationships. He despairs sometimes that he’ll always be on his own, but knows that with me he’ll never really be alone. We get involved in each others’ projects, and feel safe in each others’ company. He backs me up when I feel useless, and I hold him up when he isn’t himself.


He made a big impression on me 5 years ago, and we promised to stay in each others’ lives. He’s sometimes hard work, sometimes it’s effortless. Sometimes we don’t even need to talk to each other to just be around. Things get strained, and feelings have been put through the wringer, but he always tries to make it right, even if he’s very late in doing so, sometimes. He cares most about his family, and lives his life at full roar, with passion; he even drives with passion. He’s the energizer bunny. I try to keep us close, but sometimes I want to be very far, far away.


He’s out there somewhere, wondering where I am. He won’t care that I don’t make much of my life, that I’m all about music and flighty and a big dreamer. He doesn’t care that I’ll probably be broke for years while I work, he’ll support me. He likes coffee in the morning and spending Sundays in our pajamas. He wants 3 or 4 kids, but only when I’m ready. He’s down to earth and sometimes very silly, and strong enough to carry me around. He’s nomadic like me, and never wants to stay in one place for too long. He’ll follow me where I need to go, even if we need to fight over the destination first. He’ll love me. He’ll love my family. He’ll never tell me I’m not good or special enough. And he’ll think I’m beautiful.

Yours sincerely..

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Dear tall & demanding but pretty work lady,

It really is my top priority every single day to make sure you have enough plunger coffee. I am more than happy to stop processing customer letters, even though I am in the middle of a file, to go upstairs and help bring on your caffeine-injected early death.

Regards,
Kat

Dear Seinfeld:

I know you are in cohorts with my DVD player to never let me sleep. But I’d really appreciate it tonight if you malfunctioned at 10.30pm or so to force me to actually lie down.

Cheers,
Kat

Dear Valentine’s Day,

You suck.

Go away,
Kat

Attn all florists:

Please deliver flowers, chocolates, naked men, etc, to home addresses. If I have to deliver one more bouquet of roses to a gushing employee, I’m worried that I’ll be sick in the next plant.

Ta,
Kat

Dear Love,

I’m not unhappy with you. It’s not your problem. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I know. I know. It’s ok.

Want to go for coffee?

xxx
Kat

Something you’re not willing to give

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As I started to write this, my favourite song came on the iPod. I don’t know what to make of that – I guess it’s a little encouragement, as I haven’t posted much here recently.

There’s a lot happening right now. I’m working hard musically, but it never feels like work. Sometimes it can be draining as it’s like writing a diary. All disappointment, excitement, love, confusion, hurt and often sorrow come out in my lyrics. I try not to depress everyone, but my best stuff comes from heartbreak.

I’m sure we all have an outlet. Some of you have friends that you can spill everything to. Some of you write books, you confide in your partners, you paint, you write poetry. And it may surprise you, but I’m a fairly private person. As much as I share my life with the world at times, there’s an equal amount I don’t show or talk about. Most people know me for many years before I’ll cry in front of them. And it takes a long time for me to trust people enough to share my full self with.

I guess we all have trust issues of some sort. If we trusted everyone, we’d all get hurt too much. It’s hard to find a nice balance between being able to trust too easily and keeping everyone out. I’m scared one day I’ll become this odd recluse who only opens her door for the cats. But then I also know that people are too important to me.

I’ve learned to choose my friends carefully, but never shut anyone out unnecessarily. I’ve learned to see the good in everyone I meet, but not to let down my guard too soon. I’ve learned that not every man is worth trusting, but there are many that are.

I’m terrified to fall in love again. I think this happens to most people after a tough break-up, but I’m scared to completely let go. We’re bound to get hurt every once in a while, but it’s hard to step into the fire again when you’ve been burned badly before.

I’m not sure if I’m completely ready to take that leap yet, but I’m not hiding myself away. The best relationships are founded on friendship, and I plan on making new friends where I can. Maybe at some point this year I’ll meet someone who has been worth the hurt and the wait. Someone that doesn’t feel to me like settling for anything less than I deserve.

I just hope I don’t scare them away. They have a lot to live up to.