Saturday, January 21, 2012

For Karen



When I was in the first grade, there was a new girl who came to our school. Her name was Karen Nalezinek, and the teacher assigned me to help her out that day. Show her where the milk was in the lunchroom. That sort of thing. It was the first of many coincidences that would lead to Karen and I being lifelong friends. Somehow, no matter where we went off to, we always ended up back near each other.

It happened during college, when I moved back to Colorado and we both ended up at CU — roommates almost the whole time. A few years after we graduated, she moved back to Colorado and I lived in Apt. L. She moved in four doors down. Apt. P. She bought a house. Less than two miles away, Jerry and I bought one. This latest house we bought is a few blocks away from where Karen's oldest daughter, Reagan, goes to school. She and her husband Eric were thinking of moving over here. As it is, they are not that far away. Certainly close enough for Karen and I to get our kids together every few weeks. Close enough to try to have dinner together as often as our busy lives allow.

We always joked that we'd end up two old ladies, living together as widows, sharing one car. We joked about it, but I honestly believed it could happen. It just did happen that way with Karen and I.

I thought we would always be there, near each other. Watching our beautiful kids, who get along so amazingly well, grow up together. Crying together over our empty nests. Trying to good naturedly out-brag each other over their accomplishments. Continuing to go out for cocktails for decades. Always talking, always sharing, always feeling like we were soul-sisters. If not in blood, then in soul. When I wanted to talk to my mom and knew I couldn't, Karen was almost always the next person I would think of to call. I don't think I ever told her that.

This morning, at 7:21 a.m., I got the second worst phone call I've ever received, next to when my dad called me 11 years ago. Jamey, Karen's little sister, called me to tell me that my dear, lifelong friend passed away last night.

It is inconceivable to me that she is gone. Just a few weeks ago, we shopped together for our kids Christmas presents. She gave me hell about using the Toys R Us employees as my personal shoppers. She bought games for all her nieces and nephews, and was looking forward to many nights spent with them and her babies, playing those games. I told her I hated playing games with her when we were little because she wanted to win so badly. We laughed. Afterward, we went out for appetizers and a couple of drinks. We sat at the bar and raised our eyebrows at the lady sitting near us who was laughing so loud, so much. She told me about one of her contract employees, a young man who had been murdered over Thanksgiving weekend. We shook our heads at the way life can change in an instant.

An instant.

I will no doubt need to write about Karen much on this blog over the next few weeks. There are so many stories. There was so much history between us, so much future. She has been a constant in my life. And now she is gone. I am shattered at this. My heart breaks, not only for me but for all those who love her.

Karen. Oh honey. I love you so much.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

when those close to us are no longer close, this is one of the hardest things to fathom. Remember the good (of which there was so much), hug those near a little tighter, and lean on those of us left who can be a support when it is hard to stand against the winds of time. My thoughts and feelings go out to you in this difficult time.

Dan

Tina said...

I'm so sorry that you are hurting. There is nothing more that can be said.