Losing a Friend

I lost a dear friend this week, very unexpectedly. I can hardly believe it's true. I keep thinking I'm going to get an email from her, telling me it was a big joke, ha ha. Except it isn't. I'm  not sure how to process it. I met my friend in 2007 in Fort Resolution when I moved there to work. She moved in a month or so after I did, bringing her long-time partner, with her. She was unlike anyone I had ever met before and have ever met since. She was the most memorable character and a real straight shooter. You knew exactly where you stood with her, and I liked that about her most. I hate head games and she wasn't a player. She had a heart of gold, and called them as she saw them. I've seen her at her most tender moment, and at her most volatile, often following a scorned moment. She had a miserable rotten time in Fort Res, and I had a wonderful time, and in spite of this glaring difference, we hit it off from the start. We laughed, we talked for hours, we shared travel stories, past hurts, current challenges, and a shared affinity for tv hospital dramas and George Clooney. She was a nurse practitioner who always had time for her patients, and even in the most stressful moments, was an ocean of calm. She nursed all over the northern communities of the frozen arctic, collecting heaps of artwork along the way from carvings, to paintings, to fabric art, to mukluks, to a huge assortment of jewelry, to birch bark canoes - you name it, she had found it, and made a point of taking a photo with the artisan and the article if possible. To her, the artist was every bit as important as the art produced. She traveled the world with her longtime male companion, exploring what she could and squeezing out of life what was there to be had.

We kept up contact since we both left Fort Res, and although it was nowhere near as frequent, due to our respective busy lives moving on, we could still share a laugh, and were interested in each other's next adventure. She was excited for my new life I'm about to start in Australia, and her last words to me in an email were all so positive about her own life. I visited her when I passed through Kamloops, and we enjoyed each other's company.

I don't know for sure just what happened, other than she entered the hospital for some reason last week and never left. What I do know is that I shall miss my friend. Letting go is hard. Forgetting is impossible. She sent me a parcel of things after my apartment building burned down last year, including several dozen items of jewelry she had amassed over the years, knowing how much I loved interesting pieces. I will remember my friend as I wear these pieces, and think fondly of her as the grief eventually fades. Sometimes life is just not fair. I miss you Indigo.