My Personal Book of the Dead

It is a fact of life that each of us must die. That being the case, we have all experienced the loss of a friend or loved one. For some, this is the most devastating period of our lives. There is nothing anyone can say that eases the pain. I have learned to overcome the great sorrow and anguish with what I call my "Book of the Dead."

Before you think that I am some morbid psychopath, let me explain. I have many photo albums and scrap books that I keep of family, friends, and the wonderful adventures we have shared. Birthdays, holidays, vacations. Memories caught on film or in print make it into my own little archives.

Some of these memories are more special than others because they can never happen again. The people that I share them with are no longer with us. So I have a little private diary, if you will, that I have reserved for those special individuals. As I write this, I am thinking maybe it should be changed to Celebrations of Life. That is what this book does for me.

My book allows me to look back at the great times I had with these special people. Each one unique in their own way. I remember the good times we had together. The fun we shared. The embarrassments, the laughter, and sometimes the tears.

I have one dear soul that I will refer to as MC. She was everything I could not be. Outgoing, funny, outspoken, and determined to be treated as a princess no matter who she met. Her first love was her snakes. She would stroll through the park with them wrapped around her neck, just to make people notice. Her favorite game was hide and seek. With her car. Downtown. At 2 in the morning. She could get two or three other drivers to play every time. It was a moving experience I would have rather not partaken in. She drove like a maniac, with total disregard to me screaming "WE ARE GOING TO DIE!" from the passenger seat. I swear if you looked closely you could see little sparks of flame shooting from her eyes. And her laugh would turn sinister. I never got brave enough to check for horns.

My dear friend passed away with Leukemia when she was only 22. It was a great loss to those who knew her. An even greater one for those who could have.

It has been almost 20 years since my last "joy ride" with MC, but I still cry at times when I think of her. Then I pull out my book and start reading the memories I wrote. I look at the pictures and l laugh. Laugh at the good memories we shared.

There are several people in my book. As I get older, it seems there are more people to add. Some are just brief encounters, a year or two. Others I have known for many many years.

Each page is full of great times shared by us. I guess if you want to get technical, you could call this a scrap book of my life with friends. Looking back, I am sometimes shocked at the things we did. There are times when I remember something that I didn't write the first time. I go ahead and add it.

Each one of these people touched my life in a very special way. They taught me how to be strong, to believe in myself, to stand on my own two feet, and have the courage to face the unexpected.

It took me a long time to learn to deal with death. It is hard to accept it when I look at my book and see children as young as 12. But it makes it easier when I see the memories that I sometimes can not recall on my own.

I don't know if this is something that would work for anyone but me. But it does work for me. It allows me to mourn in my own way. It shows me that in a moment, that crazy stunt you just laughed at, may be their last. So capture it on film, write it down in your diary, and laugh louder.

Everyone says to live like you were dying. I say, Live like THEY were dying. You never know when your last moments with them will be.