Friends

Not a good sign. Insomnia = 2 a.m. blog entry.

Ah well, let's go with it. While I wait to get sleepy. Or re sleepy. Wait, is that a word? Doesn't matter. I have an audience of 2 and they will forgive me. :)

Went out tonight with Nevada's friend Barb who flew here from Oklahoma for the Michigan Memorial, after previously flying to the Oklahoma service. She kicks the dirt off her boots in Texas, normally.

Anyway, What a great friend to Nevada. And knowing that but nothing else made me like her right away. Then we all got to talk and laugh and I liked her even more. Kim and Tom joined us and it was awesome. It has struck me this week, how quickly I've bonded to Nevada's friends, considering we're all strangers.

One could argue we are all grieving and share a bond. I won't argue with that logic, but I think it's bigger than that. Nevada was very picky about whom she'd consider a friend. Maybe that's why she was so famously grumpy to many. It kept away people she didn't have to time for and the rest of us, were lucky.

There hasn't been a single fight, or any drama of any kind. That's not an easy thing when you put together 9 or 10 women in the same room that really don't know one another. But Nevada knew how to pick us.

We've all been on the same page. When a bunch of us met over the weekend at Trevor's house to clean it and get it ready for his arrival home, we discussed the memorial and other things to be done. We were tripping over ourselves to do the shopping or whatever. One person got a new shower curtain, somebody else coordinated airport runs, somebody else picked up a Guest Book, and we decided as a group who could make what dish to stock Trevor's fridge upon his return.

When other friends who aren't in the immediate area yet, heard about our plans, offers of money to help buy supplies poured in. We collected it as a group and in the end we decided to donate it to the MoyaMoya foundation. Perhaps we all felt the least we could do for Trevor was buy him some comfort food, while he finds his way without his dear Nevada.


I've been humbled all week by the absolute generosity of strangers, who don't feel like strangers but rather people who've been there all along. I have a passing knowledge of most because Nev and I talked about our lives and the people in it, all day, every day. Whether it was during one of our walks, over text, IM or email.

And it was never gossipy chat. Because Nevada never did that. She didn't need to. She let you know to your face what she thought so you never had to wonder what was said later.

I feel good because after I came back from dinner, I worked on her speech for the memorial. I'll do some editing in the morning, but I think I conveyed what I wanted to say. I read it aloud a few times and choked up in all the same spots, so at least on Saturday, I'll know when it's time to get my Kleenex.

I'll post it here after the Memorial for my two fellow blog readers. (Thanks 4th Street and Lacy).

These bonds are forming fast. Nevada would have liked that. She wasn't one for small talk and somehow when you're all gathering because of death, it's kind of silly to start conversations with, "Boy it's cold."

Our collective grief is comforting and heart breaking, as we come together to honor the life of a girl so brave and protective of others, that even in her death she gave all she had to others in her desire to be an organ donor.

Who ever has her heart, has all of ours too.