The Love We Don't Deserve

This is not how I planned to spend my precious morning hours. I have a grant to write, a long work to do list and chores I promised to conquer before 9am. But here I am. Because when you open a Christmas turned New Years card and it sends you straight into your feels…you write. At least I do, as I am, after all, a writer.
Above is a picture, actually a picture of a picture. A picture of a physically printed photo from one of the most important moments in my life. As I hold it in my hand, it is more than an image. It is a tsunami of memories and feelings from a chapter in my life close enough to still revel in pride but covered by an eclipse of dark days that followed.
But sitting inside a card filled with words of affirmation, this photo is also the physical embodiment of unselfish love and depth-of-the-ocean friendship.
Step back in time with me for a moment won’t you…
Moving to Colorado Springs in the midst of a pandemic, to my first foray into suburbia, knowing not a soul but my then husband was by all accounts torturous. I was alone on a raft adrift at sea. I longed for the cruise ship of deep connections and dear friends I had spent a decade cultivating in Tampa. But just when I thought I was destined to float into the abyss, a couple of lifeboats came to the rescue.
The first, Leadership Pikes Peak, is a story worthy of its own post. But suffice to say, the group of humans I became connected with there is a treasure chest spilling over with coins representing a thousand moments of joy, laughter, and support.
The second, a group of power women, connected by chance, bonded by choice. We call ourselves the Podcast girls in honor of the life stories we have shared over happy hour drinks and are certain could make for a fantastic show. Over the years we have shed tears, from both laughter and sorrow. We have celebrated birthday joys and bemoaned career stressors. We have traveled together literally and metaphorically through life, one periodic meet up at a time.
I love them all, but today, I honor Carrie.
From our very first meeting, at Switchbacks Coffee shop, I was already in awe of her. She is tall and blonde with broad shoulders that naturally give the best hugs and a smile that changes the energy in the room when she enters. Her sunny demeanor never feels forced or contrived. She is never too busy to meet or even just send encouraging words. Even amidst topics of depth or times of hardship, her ability to not just find, but amplify the silver lining is unflappable.
And in true Carrie fashion, a few months ago, this unflappable positivity emerged like a phoenix rising as she embarked on the battle to conquer breast cancer. Her roadmap to healing nothing short of inspiration. She equipped herself with an army of love, accepting our feeble attempts at help through food deliveries and afternoon walk & talks. She let go of any shame or hiding around the disease by sharing openly through a weekly update on the good, bad and ugly of what she is experiencing. She continues to express gratitude at every corner and make space for things that bring her joy; time with friends, anniversary with her boyfriend, an upcoming work trip to Cuba. These actions alone are a blessing to all those, like me, who love her dearly and feel powerless to help.
And now, I stare down at the card and photo in my hand. The effort to obtain and send a printed photo. The handwritten note reassuring me that I am held during my challenging life chapter. I am held? But am I not the one who should be holding you sweet friend?
So rare are those that can carry the weight of their own packs while also freeing up space so they can offer to carry part of yours. So few among us can see past the forest of our own despair and still have that much endless love to give. How blessed are those who get to know these angels among us. How grateful am I to be taught what love is.
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