Two Years

Two years ago today, I lost my best friend of 30+ years to a combination of cancer and Covid.  If you'd like to read about our lives together, I would invite you to visit this blog:  Silver Linings: Jill's Story

When we lived in Texas, Melissa and I would haunt the local Barnes & Noble bookstore on a near-weekly basis.  We would blissfully wander the stacks, hunting for literary gems, and then sit in the cafe, enjoying a hot beverage (mocha for her, cocoa for me) while we chatted or wrote.

I wanted to do something to honor her memory today.  I thought about spending some quiet time in a cemetery but there are none that are conveniently located.  [I did find out during my search that Sinead O'Connor is buried in a cemetery that's about 25 minutes away from our apartment.]  So I decided to go to the Dundrum Shopping Centre to visit a bookstore and have a hot chocolate.

I went to Eason's (bookstore), and I moved among the books but my heart just wasn't in it.  I couldn't focus, couldn't find any meaningful connection to Lissa there.

Leaving the bookstore, I went to the Off Beat Donuts kiosk where I bought a Boston creme donut and a hot chocolate (I inhaled the donut before realizing I should've taken a photo of it).

As he set my drink on the counter, the barista asked if I wanted marshmallows and chocolate added, and I said of course - how could you turn that down?  He said that some people would decline, and it made him sad that they would deprive themselves of that joy.

I took my donut and drink and sat on a padded bench in the middle of one of the mall's corridors, eating and drinking and feeling alone.  I had hoped that getting out of the house, getting out of my head, would help but I felt very disconnected from everything.

In the flower boxes lining the mall's entrance, bright daffodils gleamed yellow in the greyness of the day.  Lissa was always tickled to see the daffodils in her yard.

Her absence casts a pall over my Ireland adventure.  She would've been so thrilled for us upon hearing the news that we were moving here, would've loved reading this blog and hearing about our new life on the Emerald Isle.  I know she would've made it a goal to visit us here - a fairy returning to her roots, a mermaid returning to her sea.  If I had some of her ashes, I would scatter some in a forest, scatter some in the ocean, so she would always be a part of this place. I'll have to content myself with knowing her spirit is here - in my heart and in my soul.

I wish I could meet her at the airport, welcome her to this land, give her a huge hug, take her to a pub and watch her knock back a shot of Jameson's, watch those Irish eyes dance.

But it was not a gift I was meant to have.  And it makes me very sad.