Monday, October 05, 2009


My day started at 5 a.m.
I couldn't sleep. Had a good cry for a while and then a nap.
Pulled out my copy of Nevada's book yesterday and read the inscription she'd written for me.

Book is called, "Waiting for the Sunrise."

Nevada had written, "Kelly, each new sunrise is a chance to finish your book."

I know I'm going to have to put all my grief somewhere useful, and I'll start here and transition into something at a later date. I'm remembering all over again, how writing soothes me and it's a passion Nevada and I share.

At home today, I continued to search for tangible things that I can hold onto and she is all over my house. We hung out many a night drinking a few beers after our walks and I cooked her plenty of dinners, when we decided we were too broke to go out.

Looking at my bookshelves, I recognized a writing book she'd given me a couple birthdays ago. I opened it just now to a page that simply reads, "Safe."

Which means several things to me. One, I know it means she is safe, wherever she is wandering right now... probably stirring up trouble or telling a story to a captive audience.

Safe in the very literal sense of the word. Last year my dear godfather and uncle Joe passed away, and as a result I struggled immensely with anxiety. And it's not something you can easily share with others. If you think you're cracking up, you want to hide it. One night though, I found myself alone in my house and so very scared and I didn't know what to do, so I called Nevada.

The girl who didn't like to talk on the phone talked to me for a over an hour, defecting all my arguments.
Me:" But I lost my spare key outside."

Her: Is anything missing?

Me: No.

Her: So you just think somebody comes in when you're at work, watches tv and then quietly leaves before you get home?"

Me: Laughing. Well, when you put it like that... no.

She soothed me so by the time I hung up I was snuggled up on the sofa fast asleep.

But safe is the way I always felt with her. She was so strong and protective of me. Even though I'm older than her, she was always watching out for me. Whether it was making sure I'd drank enough water after we'd gone out, or she'd just gone head to head with a giant dude who tried to grab my butt while we were out dancing.

I'm not kidding. He was way bigger than her and she pushed him away from me, before I even knew he was there and told him to leave me alone. He wasn't backing down and neither was she.

He finally moved on and then she marched over to the group of guys he was with to tell them, "Your friend is an asshole." They all apologized. Later we found out, they didn't know the guy either.

But Nevada had a way of making even grown men tremble. And I certainly felt emotionally safe to share anything. And I do mean anything. I'm realizing just how many things she knew about me that even friends I've known for 20 years didn't know.

Because my heart was safe from scorn with her. And I was safe being myself. She didn't want me to be anyone else.

Now, don't get me wrong. When she thought I was being stupid, she'd say, " Don't be an idiot." Or stop acting like a moron... but she never made you feel stupid. It always ended up making me laugh.

She helped me see myself in unexpected ways. I hope I did the same for her.

Nevada please know, everyone that loves you and especially Trevor will keep you safe in our hearts forever.


Susie Q said...

Excellent!! She will love it.

Stephanie said...

Good stories, thanks for sharing...xoxox.

LQ said...

Wonderful entry...I'm glad writing can be a release for you. I love reading it.

Kim said...

Everyone needs a Nevada in their lives. And this is beautifully written.

Courtney said...

Kelly, you have lost so much recently. Even though I am not the best at keeping in touch, I want you to know that I will always be around and here for you. My cell is 412-225-6899 and anytime you feel the need to talk you should call me. And email me your cell and I will do the same.