Monday, January 04, 2016

Happy Birthday, Ellen!

Happy Birthday, Ellen!

Sorry that I'm one day late. I hope you had a great day. Are you 50 now? I can't remember how many years younger you are than me.

I didn't know you had breast cancer. Cara told me two summers ago when we were in Chicago. She told me that you were in remission. I was relieved and didn't think anymore about it. I know several breast cancer survivors and I assumed you'd be one too. A week later I heard from Holly and Cara that you had passed away.

How come you never told me that you had cancer? But then, you wouldn’t have. It would have been too negative and you were too positive. You knew how to fun and how to make fun. It’s like Cara said, while imitating you, “We got lost, but we’re having a great time!” I know this is cliché, but you knew how to take lemons and make lemonade. You could take a boring or annoying situation and turn it around for the better. You could also find joy in the simplest things, like the gumball machines that are all over Erlangen. I ignore them, always have, but you, while visiting us, couldn’t resist putting your extra change in and getting a gumball or a piece of stale candy or a plastic ring. You found these silly things fun.

I remember while in Bamberg you made Cara ride the seesaw at the playground with you. And you laughed and laughed as if you were a little girl riding a seesaw for the very first time.

I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately. It seems that all these memories are flooding back. Things related to you that I thought I had forgotten are suddenly popping up in my brain. For example, for the last couple of weeks I’ve been humming and singing “Jump,” but not the van Halen version, the Aztec Camera version. You introduced me to them. You made me a mixed tape with “Jump” on it and I started listening to more of their songs. It’s sad, but I can’t find the tape.

I miss you, Ellen, very, very much. And I'm sorry I wasn't better at keeping in touch. I just assumed that we would see each other again and it would be as if we had been apart for only a day or two.

I love you. Always will.

Vicki