Happy birthday Lindsay, friends forever

Dear Lindsay,

I wish that instead of reflecting I was celebrating with you, floating on some body of water with the sun on our faces and beers in our hands and hearing about all the amazing things you’ve done. If I could talk to you now I would tell you about how much you’ve impacted my life. About how sometimes I meet a patient that reminds me of you and my heart breaks. Knowing you before and during your illness has been the single greatest motivator for me to always spend the extra time and effort with patients, and for that I’m forever grateful. I miss you. I can’t believe how long its been. Thinking about you on your birthday always makes it sink in a little deeper and I feel like I can't breathe. But then, I think about some day or night we hung out and I inevitably end up laughing. You were an unparalleled friend, and I still don’t know how you made everyone around you feel special all the time. Your caring and joviality were infectious and I’m astoundingly lucky to have had you as a friend. 

Friends forever, 

Dave

Life update:  I just graduated from Harvard Medical School and I’m about to start my internal medicine residency at Johns Hopkins. I’m moving in with my girlfriend, Julia, in Baltimore. 

An expression of gratitude

I am enormously grateful to Kelly. This year for Christmas, she gave me The Fault in our Stars, with a note that a writer could not possibly better capture Lindsay, me, cancer, loss, and love.  Upon completion, I felt grateful to John Green for writing such a relatable and poignant story.  One particular page seemed apt to share today: 

"I can’t talk about our love story, so I will talk about math. I am not a mathematician, but I know this: There are infinite numbers between 0 and 1. There’s .1 and .12 and .112 and an infinite collection of others. Of course, there is a bigger infinite set of numbers between 0 and 2, or between 0 and a million.

Some infinities are bigger than other infinities.

There are days, many of them, when I resent the size of my unbounded set.  I want more numbers than I’m likely to get.  But my love, I cannot tell you how thankful I am for our little infinity. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. You gave me a forever within the numbered days, and for that, I’m grateful."

Lindsay's life was a limited collection of infinities. Many, many times a day, I see a sign of LAR.  Something that triggers a memory- like Billy Joel blaring in the CVS, a giraffe tee prominently featured in the window of an Elmwood boutique (obviously purchased!), one of her favorite quotes scrawled on the wall in a dive bar in Cambodia.  And each time I feel her in that moment, I am adding digits to our numbered days.  She’s commanding a presence in my everyday through fate and fortune. Adding depth, color, and relevance to one of the memories of her I cherish. As I’m sure many of us feel today, I am grateful to LAR everyday for the infinities she left behind for each of us.   

Missing you

Today is always a weird day to recognize. On the one hand, it seems unnatural to many people to commemorate February 27^th in any way. On the flip-side, though, I have so many feelings attached to the date that it would be impossible for me to ignore it. When Lindsay first passed away, I spent hours a day thinking about the time that she was battling cancer – the last time I saw her, the last time we spoke, the last emails and text messages we exchanged. Even though my apartment is sprinkled with pictures of Lindsay and I both before and after she was diagnosed, in my mental picture, Lindsay sported her super stylish brunette wig.

I remember countless conversations with my mom, explaining to her how hard it was for me to think about Lindsay. It’s not that I didn’t want to think about her (duh); it was just that all of my thoughts about Lindsay, even the happy memories, were connected to such an intense feeling of loss. I remember how hard it was to imagine a future where I’d be able to think about Lindsay without being so sad, hurt, mad, and spiteful.

Over the past 3 years, my mom has assured me that the sharp pain would fade, and would eventually be replaced by happy memories … and it has. Don’t get me wrong; there are still plenty of sharp pains, hours of heartache, and fantasies about more time with Lindsay. Jen has artfully settled on a way of asking me if I’m just “regular” upset or if I’m “having a moment.” But, finally, when I picture Lindsay, I picture her with her thick dirty blonde hair, and I smile.

For nearly a month, I’ve been ruminating over how I would write about my feelings this year. I feared coming off as insensitive, or like I had somehow “moved on” from Lindsay’s battle with cancer. This is not at all, in any way, shape, or form, the case. I still think about Lindsay every single day. I still want to call her and tell her about my achievements and my new fashion obsessions (mostly the latter), complain to her about disappointments, and ask for advice.

Rather, as time has passed, I’ve been able to emerge from the fog of my grief, and be able to remember and celebrate Lindsay in the way that she would want me to. I still speak about Lindsay all the time, but now I’m able to with a glow on my face, the way that a best friend should be spoken about.

Lindsay, you would be so, so proud and amazed by what your friends and family have accomplished in your memory. You continue to inspire each of us every single day, and remind us of what’s actually important. We are all better friends, daughters, sons, sisters, brothers, and now even husbands and wives, for having been touched by you.

I love you infinitely, and I will never, ever stop trying to live up to you. 

Wearing heels today of course.

Happy New Year's, LAR!

LAR,

In true fashion, I am late, but I know you understand. I just read your last e-mail to me and I had to write.

It has been too long. A millions lives have truly gone by since we've last spoken. There are so many things I wish I could say to you, but I'll keep it brief (mainly because I'm a slow typer). This year I am dedicating my New Year's Resolutions to you, because I only think of these things when I think of you, and literally NO ONE else in the world could make me mobilize to do this.

1. You are irreplaceable and I miss you everyday. I will continue to do this for the rest of this year and every year after until I see you again.
2. My new life strategy before every decision I make is to think to myself, "What would Lindsay say if I told her this story?" The result is typically that I take more risks and try to forget the stupid things that make me question what I want to do in the first place. But the truth is that I want badly to be able to call you when things do end up going oh-so-wrong, which I seem to have mastered. Then I could tell you and hear your amazing laugh and your reassurance that, while probably reckless and maybe dumb, I totally made the right call and you would have done the same thing. Then we could discuss potential online shopping purchases to make me feel better about my idiocy or organize a night of Gin Buckets and dare versus dare to start fresh.
3. Most days I think you would be proud of the person that I have become and there are truly some days that I know you would not. This has been one of the hardest parts about medical school. This whole process is hard, and you most of all know that I've never been great at dealing with stress in the first place. I'll admit, sometimes it makes me sad. I try to keep you in mind when I push myself too hard or cut people out of my life. I know that is the last thing you would want me to do. I also know that you would lay it out and tell me that I was being an idiot and an asshole. No one tells me that anymore, so I will have to have an internal Lindsay whispering in my ear at all stressful times, "Get your head out of your butthole, Lauren." (I might need to come up with a better strategy, but this is what I am going with for now.)
4. You would glow when you see the patients that I help. Most of them are fabulous and I see a little bit of you in every one of them, even the real jerks have their moments. I will make sure to look for you in every patient.
5. I will wear more glitter this year, I will make my hair and accessories flawless (at least to the best of my ability), and I will cherish every puppy that crosses my path.
6. I will not hide my feelings for anyone. Life is too short, and that seems like a horrible strategy.
7. I will tell my friends and family that I love them more often. I will send cards and stupid photos and hilariously random text messages.. just so they know that I am thinking of them.
8. I will give gifts. For no apparent reason and for every reason. Many of them will be TimTams.
9. I will take a big trip. There will be a beach and there will be drinks and it will be fabulous. I will try to convince MollDoll to join. We will dance in the rain and kayak across a sound in the dead of night in our underwear. I will try not to start a relationship with anyone in hospitality this time around.
10. I will not let anyone treat me poorly and I will treat everyone with the same respect.
11. I will dance more, especially on Fridays, but on every other night as well.
12. More brunch. More yoga. More toast. I will try not to leave my keys in my freezer.
13. I will celebrate your life everyday.

Miss you always, lady. Things haven't ever been the same without you.

xoxo,

LEW

tweezers

Anyone who has ever traveled with me knows that there are two things that I CANNOT travel without: tweezers and nail clippers. Due to unforeseen circumstances, despite obviously packing these two items for my family trip to Europe last week, I wound up tweezer-less and clipper-less very shortly into my trip. Obviously, an emergency text was sent to my mom, obliging her to rescue me by bringing these items (specific types, of course) when she met me in Barcelona a few days later.

As I was unpacking my shiny new orange (duh) tweezermans into my medicine cabinet tonight, I was reminded that I was not the only one with this (in)secure attachment to perfectly plucked eyebrows. On the first night that Lindsay had to stay in the hospital, she sent Emily and I to her apartment to collect some of her belongings. Naturally, this included her pillow, a very specific soft hoodie that I was instructed would be in one of the piles on her floor that "looked clean," leggings, face wash, etc, but Lindsay also demanded her tweezers. A strange request to some, but not to me. When I got back to her hospital room that night to watch the final votes come in, granting Obama the presidency, Lindsay realized that her bed tray had a little drawer in it. There are probably a number of "normal" things that one would think to put in this drawer - a pen and paper, chapstick, tissues, I don't know ... but Lindsay tucked her tweezers and a small mirror right into that drawer, to always be easily reachable. Smartest girl. You really never know when you'll have an eyebrow emergency. Seriously.

Linds, I don't know if anyone will ever get me quite like you do. Love and miss you every single day, and a little more when I'm tweezing my eyebrows or cutting my cuticles (a story for another day ...)

Infinite love baby xxxxx
z

Hi all-
How amazing this is to see everyone's pictures. What a beautiful day.

Three years ago I made Lindsay a couple mix cds for her 23rd birthday. Suffice it to say, I listened to them much more than I think she ever did. However, I could think of nothing better to do with the last two days than to ponder music, and ponder Lindsay, and make something to share with everyone. Kudos to my tech guru, Davis, who is also my bartender at the moment. We're watching ferries and the sun is finally coming out.

Music is really tough. It's nothing if it doesn't break your heart. I went to a concert this year and cried through the entire set. I'm sure some of you know how long it can take to be able to listen to music again without combusting. There's nothing profound about this mixtape, only the intention to be happy, or sad, or feel whatever other stuff you like to feel.

So grab someone you love and dance. DEFINITELY dance!

Lindsay, we miss you and love you. You're always dancing in my head.

P.s. if you were on a certain email chain with Lindsay in the late summer of 2008, you might recognize one of these :)

Here are links to both playlists. You can download the zip files and to then enjoy all the music files + playlist file for iTunes!

Playlist 1:

https://www.dropbox.com/s/grkqygwr0bfj45g/LAR.zip

*apparently "Last thing on your mind" requires permission. Here's a different file for just that song:

https://www.dropbox.com/s/hm1gghp4knxivv9/LIGHTS%20%27The%20Last%20Thing%20on%20Your%20Mind%27%20Lyrics.mp3

Playslist 2:

https://www.dropbox.com/s/m9z0b6fh8bkptj6/LAR-2.zip

Happy Birthday, Linds!

Emily made you a fantastic photo tribute for your special day. I missed the deadline. Neither of these things would surprise you. Here are a few shots of two of my favorite memories with you - Disney World and Ryan's 21st in NY. I especially like the one of you with Mickey because it reminds me of how adorably freaked out you were by all the characters. Miss your beautiful face, as always. xoxo