Remembering Alida

I woke up suddenly from a dream of running through an enormous green field, at 2:34 this morning. A dream of being chased or chasing, of trying to read a scrap of paper that floated always out of reach but seemed utterly, entirely essential.
As is often the wont of my insomniac self, I indulged in a terrible habit, one that causes particular damage when the goal should be, getting back to sleep, I checked my email.
What I found was a message from an old friend about the sudden passing from a rare and incredibly quick cancer of another dear old friend.

I haven't seen or heard from or of Alida in nearly 20 years. I have often wondered where her path lead her and equally as often had the feeling that somehow our paths were running parallel to each other.

Alida was tall, like some sort of amazingly majestic yet incredibly gentle tree, completely comfortable with just swaying, just being.
I remember finding it funny, ironic even, at 7 years old that we seemed to be polar opposites. Alida, tall, willowy, blond and ethereal. Me, close to the ground and dark and too old for my age, both of us so knowledgeable, so certain of ourselves, so powerful- always.

Most of what we did together was lie aimlessly in the green meadow behind the childcare center that my mother co-directed. We got lost, in our heads, in our own imaginary worlds where Alida would grow up to be a mermaid and I would grow up to be a foreign correspondent. Even then, our goals seemed somehow opposite and yet complimentary.
Alida had the most amazing way of seeing things and making them real. I had a way of talking, acting and writing them out.

I lost touch with Alida in my early teens but have now learned that we both lived all over the world, loved fiercely, even when that love wasn't deserved or wasn't the smartest choice. I know now that just as we planned, we lived for the sake of living, just like we knew we would at 7. That we both followed our dreams and our hearts, disjointed, convoluted, circuitous and necessary.
I know now that we lived as we wanted to live, with our complete selves, always.
I could say that I regret the years in between that I missed out on knowing Alida on a daily basis.
I will say that somehow, from very early on I always knew her and am proud to have had the opportunity, proud to know that she continued to live and love in a way that was always true to who she was. Proud that knowing her was part of allowing me to do the same in my own way.
i know that, just as I have for nearly 20 years, I will think of her nearly daily and miss her always.