A Gift From Natalie

This is a story about how things keep coming around.

I began this blog the weekend my friend died. I had wanted to start a blog--probably about mothering, about life--but she died, and so much of my blog in the first year was about her, our friendship, my mourning, and, I suppose in retrospect, my question of how I could honor her spirit in my life, in how I choose to live.

She comes to me often, with advice, and little nudges, and sometimes clucks of disappointment.

But this week she appeared with a gift.

We are not exactly feeling financially flush right now. Not bankrupt, but struggling a little, like everyone.

Still, I am longing for time away. My little one is about to go to kindergarten, my impatience to have time to work is growing, but my realization that my time as full time stay at home mama is coming to an end is also stressing me a little. I am stirred up. And know that I am about to set off in a new direction--after sitting in this camp for three years or so. Three years I would not trade for anything.

In a month I go to NYC. I am going with one of my oldest friends--my neighbor from the next village in Japan--just a three mile bikeride through the rice fields away. My only English speaking company for a long, lonely year in rural Shiga ken. She knew Natalie, and Doug. We have been far away. But if you meet when you are 21 and go on a grand adventure, I think that is a friendship that can never be broken.

After Japan we traveled for six months in Asia together--through Thailand, Malaysia, Indonesia, Ladakh, India and Nepal.

I have been dying to have a break. To have a few days to clear my head of children and husband. Not days to attend a memorial, a death, an ash scattering. Days to regenerate, and return to my former self. To re-acquaint myself with her.

I have sunk so far it took me weeks to even get up the courage to ask Jonathan. I earn so little money now, it felt wrong, despite all I do. Athena kept egging me on--ask him, tell him this is imperative for your mental health, just do it! Finally I did, and he said yes.

I booked my flight (great fares!) and Athena took charge and found a great hotel. Sometimes I worry I am spending too much money on this grand weekend with no point but friendship, recovery, wandering, lazy mornings, walking without pushing a stroller or pulling a child. Drinking too much, eating spicy food. staying up too late, walking through a museum as slow as I want with no one to explain anything to. Seeing a dear old friend and talking about life, and where we are.

But I booked it, and we are going. Each day I feel a little happier, a little more excited. People ask what I will do. I don't know. It is the luxury of not knowing that is half the sweetness. Perhaps we will lie all day long on our backs in Central Park reading books in the sunshine. Perhaps we will eat pretzels all day and have the best Italian food int he world at night. Maybe I will visit my Columbia apartment, walk through St. John the Divine, sing at a gay night club.

I made my leap.

Then, out of the blue, it looks as if some money will appear. When Natalie died there was no one to pay. We were told some day some money would come through, but Jonathan warned me, whatever you give, expect to never see it again. I reserved the community center in Stinson Beach and put down the payment and deposit. I wrote the obit and got it published and paid for it. It was $1,000 in all. A lot. But then, nothing for a friend I loved. I never regretted it.

But suddenly, two days ago, her sister called to tell me they are ready to pay out expenses. Who knows, it could take another year to arrive. But it made me feel like Natalie was reaching out from beyond the grave saying: "Hilary, here is your money. Thank you for taking care of me. For helping to make sure I was remembered the way I wanted to be remembered. I know you didn't expect anything. But here is money for you. Take this money and travel. Go see a friend. Take care of yourself. I would call you if I could--but I am just sending this money for you. Don't skimp on yourself. Tend to your soul. Do what you need to do."

Doesn't life work in mysterious ways?