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.

Gimping at the mouth...

This weekend, while Jeff and I were in Vegas, during one of the few times we were in the gaming part of a casino, as a cocktail waitress walked by us, in all of her curvy beauty, Jeff, trying to give me a compliment said, "You could totally do that, you absolutely have the body and the beauty, I'm not sure how they would feel about the walk though..."
Immediately after saying this, Jeff realized what he had said and how his attempt at being complimentary had totally backfired! My initial response was one of indignation and frustration, not so much at Jeff but at the millions of times I have heard similar comments, sometimes from people who love me and sometimes from strangers who fire these supposed witticisms at me with either malice or complete ignorance.
I explained to Jeff how hurtful that was, in general and especially coming from my husband who I love so deeply and unconditionally. I said, "...it would be illegal for them to not hire me based on the walk, though they would probably just come up with some other reason why I wouldn't be a good fit and I wouldn't want to be in that kind of service position anyway, one, because I know how hard those women work and what kind of crap they put up with AND because I am not so good at carrying drinks."
Jeff was totally apologetic and understood why my initial response was fear, I have dated, flirted with, been flirted with by, so many people who have made claims of understanding my inner and outer gimp and have made similar, though of course, more hurtful, statements. It was sort of like the good friend who once explained to her young children that. "Aviva's body can't do everything she wants it to and you should both consider yourselves lucky that you have bodies that will do what you want..." When her children wanted me to climb the ladder to check out their attic with them. This before asking me what my limits were (none really- I think if I can handle climbing mount Kilimanjaro and working out enough that I have lost nearly 50 pounds since the second week of October, I can handle an attic ladder!) The thing is, everyone, and I mean everyone has limitations, physical skills and weaknesses, just because mine have a name does not make them public property. As I always say, if you want to know what I can or am interested in doing, ask me! We all know what they say about assumptions.
In the end Jeff and I reached an understanding and are no less in love with each other then we ever have been. It was a good reminder for both of us. For me, because I forget sometimes that even those who love me the most haven't lived in my walk, as it were, and there is a learning curve. I owe it to those I love to be gentle and explain why those comments are unacceptable. I also owe it to myself and the world to be clear and vocal and explain why those comments and the views of differently abled people they encourage and support, are unacceptable.