Science

Sitting around trying to do my schoolwork tonight, obviously my thoughts drift to Lindsay and particularly to this conversation that we had during the summer after college.

Lindsay: i have a mind like a steel trap.

                        with a bear foot in it

4:51 PM          letting all the useful information out

                        only to be left with random snippets of variables from equations.

                        me: hahaha

                        Lindsay: this is literally how my mind works.

                        me: i like the analogy

                         or metaphor

                         dammit

                        total simile!

4:52 PM         english used to be my steeze

                        all this science is pushing it out wtf

                        Lindsay: itll do that.

                         it also crushes your cool. you wont feel edgy anymore

                         just sciencey

                        fact based
Just to be clear, we immediately switched our conversation to the new wardrobe that we were designing for Lindsay.  This conversation included details such as the jean to skirt to dress ratio, the utility of the day dress, and our shared propensity towards shorts.  In Lindsay's words, "our focus is quality. i want an efficient, no-duh collection thats exemplifies and refines my style."

Totally maintaining our cool.  Not making fashion sound nerdy at all.  I feel edgier just reading it.

Love and miss you today and every single day, Linds.  Infinite hugs and kisses.

xxxxx,

z

The Foundation

Hi all-

I'm sure it comes as no surprise to anyone that I have been thinking about what to write today, on the one year mark of losing Linds. And I will continue to. Fortunately for me, I have a twin who often times can verbalize what I can't when I can't. I woke up this morning to tears, but also to this story, written beautifully by Kelly.

The Foundation

Planting season. Two spry, lean yet forceful and noticeably promising trees. Planted so auspiciously close to one another as to leave no chance to miss the other's presence. Twigs really. A leaf here and there. Only when awarded ground did they both begin to grow. Spread their arms, sometimes towards one another; sometimes set in opposing directions. The gardener caught sight of their coexistence, their integration, their journey. Sometimes one blocking the wind, protecting against the elements for the other…and vice versa, as nature called. Nowhere to go but up for these sightly trees!!! Or so the gardener thought.

But wrong he was. See, while growing up together towards the sun, eager to make way into the serenity and vibrance of the plush green earth surrounding, they in fact were also stemming down. Towards the unseen and unobserved dense ground below, they rooted. With every day, they shared the same soil, embedded in the same patch. An unavoidable intertwining to the very core did both of these trees arrive at the same nucleus below. Unknown to the naked eye, they had formed a root so strong, it was indistinguishable from which tree every underpinning originated.

And so, one fateful day, a forester arrived and chopped down one of the trees. From the ground up. It fell. Day by day, each part of its trunk was dismantled, lay below its lively partner. Its leaves blowing away, fading into the distance. The gardener wandered by. Struck by the remarkable contrast. The difference. The separation of two figures making way to one seemingly lonely counterpart. Through the seasons, the remaining tree was tested. Bearing harsher sun, sustaining stronger storms, struggling through longer days.

But alas, what the gardener didn't see was the impenetrable network below the ground. The strength, the depth, the reach of the immeasurable time spent building below, that which will never be disrupted. And so, with each passing day, despite the gardner's expectations, the lively tree continued to sprawl, continued to grow. Not at a loss for the presence of its partner, but rather at a swifter pace, due to the power vested and combined, dedicated fully to its fruition.

One year later, the gardener takes sight. He notices the tree, unrivaled by any other in the garden. He noticed it had a few missing branches, from when it blows in the wind, unprotected anymore by the tangible companionship of its neighbor. But it didn't take long to observe, it was taller than the other trees, bore richer fruit, and brighter leaves. And he stood beneath its reach, with his feet settled hard on the ground below. And he looked to the neighboring and empty patch and felt the aura, permeating from the core, through the roots, up through the ground, into the air, the branches, the leaves, flowing above to the sun and clouds above; the foundation.

This Is A New Year

Yet another year ends, and another one begins. Each one seems so long while within its confines, in the daily grind and passage of life; arduous, but hopefully happy and full of joy. But once it ends, we can truly see how fast it passed before our eyes. It is tantalizing the sheer multitude of moments experienced over the year, skipping like a stone across the waters of time, briefly touching down and then moving on again. Some of the moments are as light as air, and with a brief flutter of wings they are gone, just as swiftly as they came. While others are heavy, have more seriousness and gravity, and stay with us longer.

But even more amazing is the change, and the growth. Through the struggles and the ups and downs, through the long days of hard work, the sleepless nights, the pain, the joy, the loss, we are shaped and molded by all of our experiences through the year. Every interaction touches us, leaves a mark upon the story of our lives that stays with us. Life writes itself upon us, and everywhere we go we carry those words with us.

I like to look at the imprint that Lindsay made upon on my life. Our physical time together was brief, but it was rich with passion, it burned with the fire and awe of a thousand flaming suns. How very much alive in each moment we were, full of bliss and joy over the simplest things. A lizard, a rain storm, a flower, a leaf falling from a tree, a friend giggling, time with family, a lover. Lindsay’s vibration has always been love, joy, and bliss, and how fortunate we are to have shared it.

We are the sum and product of all of our thoughts, experiences, and actions. As for my equation, I am blessed that Lindsay played a part in it. She is written upon each one of us, and we take her with us everywhere as we move forward in this life. Love.

Bags

Turkey Day.

Last year on Thanksgiving, I was in the worst mood ever. Essentially threw the adult equivalent of a temper tantrum at the fam (sorry Roesings). Linds was stuck in the hospital again and I don't think I felt all that thankful at all for much. Not really much of a runner at the time, I distinctly remember sprinting away from the family on our routine cliche crescent trail walk just for the meer purpose of avoiding talking to anyone because I just didn't think anyone really understood. Good times.

Then Linds called me. I sat upstairs and we bitched. She bitched about the situation. I bitched about the situation. And we concurred that 23 was still an acceptable age to throw tantrums if we saw fit, and we did. And we laughed a lot. We hatched a plan to merge our families together for future holiday events so that we would have less to bitch about in the future. Or at least we could bitch together in person. I hid upstairs on the phone for as long as I could get away with and then went back downstairs to have dinner with the family somewhat begrudgingly and laughed to myself frequently thinking of Lindsay sitting in the Cleveland hospital probably giving everyone a hard time too.

While this is not a particularly happy story to share, I feel it is an important one because it causes me to remember certain things. I remember how hard things were at times and how much fortitude Lindsay demonstrated in those 2 years. And how whiny the two of us could really be. I will never fully accept that she is gone, but I am able to smile knowing that she is in a happier place. A place with bountiful amounts of turkey and pie. I am able to smile knowing that I am in a better place too. On the trail this morning, I thought of all the people I am thankful for. The friends and family I have been blessed with, living or not, and the incredible impact they have had on my life.

Now if I could just get Billie, John, Brandon, and Brooke to consider DC for Turkey Day... then Linds and I would have nothing left to bitch about.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

rain, rain, don't go away

I've always hated the rain. In fact, I hate "weather." I revel in the absence of "weather;" I only, only, appreciate sun and heat. Give me 105 degrees and a UV index of 9 any day and I'm thrilled. But, today as I trudged through the rain to the subway, crying on the inside that I had THREE MORE BLOCKS to walk, I thought about a conversation that I had a few weekends ago with Emily and Billie. We were in DC for Clare and Molly's marathon, that they ran in memory of Lindsay with LLS Team in Training (and were absolutelyyy amazing and inspirational of course!). The day before the marathon it was, of course, not just raining, but some crazy combination of hail/snow/sleet/impending doom. This prompted a discussion of how it has seemed to rain on nearly every important day of the past few months, ranging from the extremely important planned outdoor parties, to Emily's half marathon. But the first, and most prominent day of the past few months that it's rained, was on Lindsay's funeral. We discussed how the rain on all of these days, days that Lindsay's presence was so strongly felt, must be Lindsay's way of reminding us that she's here with us. I'm not necessarily the most spiritual person, but I definitely believe that Lindsay's here, raining on all of our parties and crawfish boils, reminding us that she's always here in spirit for the important, and most absolutely for the fun times. (Fortunately she was considerate enough to make her presence known the day before Molly and Clare's marathon and allow it to be a perfect sunny fall day for the actual race.)

So Linds, today, although I was forced to trade my leather jacket for a rain coat and my studded booties for rain boots, as I felt my straight hair get soaked and frizzy as the wind blew away both my umbrella and hood, my standard frustration with rain definitely fizzled. I felt like you were here with me, and I definitely didn't hate the rain. I'm not going to say I love the rain now (wouldn't want to get carried away here), but today, feeling like you were here with me, stomping through puddles with your perfectly not-frizzy hair (lest not forget that night in the Shooter's bathroom), was comforting, and provided some much needed happiness and warmth on a particularly dreary day.

Infinite love and kisses to my most flawless of friends, LAR.

xxxx,

Zwill

Keep Your Leaves

Visited Lindsay's tree yesterday--it looks great! I was so surprised to find that it still has all its leaves, while everything else around it has jettisoned theirs. Perfect. Cruel summer becomes endless summer, and Lindsay's tree holds onto its leaves with all it's got.

Remembered to bring a photographic device this time, so here ya go:

I know Lindsay would agree that we all can learn from her tree and remember to hold onto our leaves with gusto!

Love,

Helen

LAR- I made this to wear tomorrow but in true fashion, I didn't get my act together to actually iron it on my jersey. Nonetheless, I will be borrowing your long legs and all- around fierceness. Bulletproof, my giraffe.

Peace & love.