This letter was written by Kelly's best friend Kandyce. You can also visit their shared blog here.
Kelly
10-8-1972 5-14-2010
I
have written this post a million times in my head, wanting to so
clearly capture Kelly. Wanting to give those of you who didn't know her
the best window into what a gift it was to be a part of her life. And I
can't do it. I don't know if it is too soon. I don't know if its just
me. I don't know. So instead, I'm just gonna write. Please forgive my
stream of consciousness, perhaps it will provide some clarity.
Kelly
and I were born five days apart on separate ends of the country. But
when we met the summer before our 7th grade year, I knew that she would
be somehow be a special part of my life. It wouldn't be for another
year that we became close, but close we were. "Kandy and Kelly" were
always together. When Kelly's family moved away at the end of 10th
grade, one of our teachers asked me, "what are you going to do with out
her?" I didn't know then. I don't know now.
As
I sit here at my desk and look up at my inspiration wall, staring back
at me among other things are two pictures of Kelly, an angel from a
card she sent me years ago, and a note she had attached to two articles
she sent to me about women who had started their own business in her
forties. The note says, "Kandie, Aren't these stories great? Maybe
you'll start your pottery business when we turn 40!" Unfortunately,
"we" won't turn forty. I'll have to do that alone.
The
prospect of life without Kelly is difficult to grasp. A huge part of me
can't wrap itself around this. No more calls? Really? No more hearing
her beautiful voice? No? No more laughing about our nutty children?
You're kidding! It all seems too much and yet it's real and true. And
hurts more than I have words to express.
There
are so many funny and beautiful stories about Kelly. Since her death
last Friday, her family, friends and I have shared many. And as much as
I need the stories, they aren't enough. I want more. I want her.
Because, though the stories are important and what we now have, they
are a pale shadow to who she really was. And during quiet times, I find
myself reflecting not so much on the stories, but what it was to just
"be" with her. So much of our time together was just being. Even on the
phone. Our understanding of each other ran deep.
When
Kelly got sick, she told me that I would be her light to get her
through this. I remember thinking, "Dear God, help me to be this for
her!" I hope and pray I was. I wanted so much to be. I am so grateful
to have been given the extreme honor of being with her during her final
days, a gift I will forever be thankful to her parents, Chuck and
Susan, her sister, Erin and her husband, Matt, for allowing me. The
moments with her over the last few weeks are by far some of the most
precious of my life. Her last words to me were, "I love you so much!" I
said, "I love you, too, Kelly." I left the room and she slipped into a
coma in the early morning. Good bye, my sweet, sweet friend.
I
wish you could read the emails we sent back and forth just trying to
come up with a name. It makes me laugh to see how serious and nervous
we were at beginning. I have been asked to continue the blog. I have
thought so much about it. I don't know how to do this. It just feels so
wrong. This blog was completely a collaborative effort, right
down to the font colors. We never made decisions with out consulting
each other. Never. Notions and Threads was ours. I can't make it mine.
I don't want to. It hurts too much. Maybe after a break. I'll feel
differently. But for now...
I
have come to believe that one of the main reasons the blog
existed, unbeknownst to us when we started it, was so that all of you
could have a hand in this journey. Your role was no small part. Each
comment made fed her soul. She was always so excited when we had a new
follower. The Wellness Tree project blew her and Matt away. Nicole, my
dear friend, a special thank you to you for the gift of The Wellness
Tree and for everything else you have been to Kelly, Matt, Susan and
me. One day, you'll get that hug.
So
this is goodbye, for now. Maybe I'll start a new blog one day. One
about... I don't know (see, I'm no good right now). Or maybe I will
surprise you with a post about something crafty that a memory of Kelly
inspired. You never know. Right now I just need some time.
Love and undying gratitude,
Kandyce