I’m Numb

I’m numb. 

For the past couple of years, I’ve been trying to contact a friend of mine.  We were really close years and years ago, but she moved out of state, and we've lost touch.

Over the years, I’ve called her; but after another move, the phone number I had for her no longer worked. 

Emailing her wasn’t an option, since she wasn’t comfortable with the computer and didn’t have an email address. 

The letters and cards I sent in the later years started to come back with no forwarding address. 

Knowing my friend’s hectic, constantly moving, and crazy life, I just assumed that she was happily busy with her family — and I, mentally, wished her well.

She’s such a beautiful person that I couldn’t wish her anything less.  She’s another exceptional person I’ve had the privilege to know.  Her loving spirit shines through every piece of her and brightens everyone and everything around her.  She is totally devoted to her family and “her family” includes everyone she meets.  Her presence makes such a difference to those she touches. 

So, I can understand how we fell out of touch, and I am so grateful that our paths crossed for as long as it did.

Two years ago, some internal need made me resurrect my search for her again.  I knew my friend wasn’t comfortable on the computer, but I thought, maybe, time had changed that and searching on Facebook was worth a shot.  It would be one way that she can keep in contact with her family — and I thought, maybe, her daughters would have set up an account for her. 

So, I took a shot.  Unfortunately, my friend’s name is pretty common, and I had to develop a hit-and-miss strategy to my Facebook search.  I thought I had found her and sent her a friend’s request… but got no response.

That didn’t stop me, though.  Each time her birthday rolled around, I would reach out again and again… with no response.

This year, when her birthday came around, I reached out again…

Then it struck me.  Her youngest daughter would be in her twenties now — and part of this Facebook generation.  If I can find her, I can ask her to wish her mom a happy birthday for me.  And that’s what I did.

Yesterday, the daughter messaged me back. 

Her mom — my friend — was killed in a car accident, by a drunk driver… two years ago.

I'm numb.

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