One year

It's been a year, and it feels like yesterday. A day doesn't pass that I don't think about Suzy.

I talk to her everyday. I ask her questions about life, I laugh with her about things I know she would laugh at if she was still alive. I think (a lot) about what she would say to me if I asked for her advice. I talk to her now more than I did when she was alive. I am not religious per se, and I don't really know what my beliefs are concerning the afterlife, but I talk to Suzy all the time. She is up there, watching and listening. She has to be. She shows up in my dreams from time to time. Sometimes I think she has enough to watch over, with her two beautiful children growing up without their mom. But I know she is taking care of them, and that brings me a lot of peace. She has been my guardian angel for the last year. And I know she has been an angel for so many others this year too.

In February, there was a night (ok, there were several nights) when I almost lost it. I had spent the entire day at St. Luke's, meeting with doctors and having tests run. Jessica had stayed with me, keeping me distracted and upbeat. I was doing fine until I went back for the MRI. As I changed into another hospital gown and looked into the mirror in the bathroom, I started to lose it. I felt all alone, facing something I wasn't sure I could overcome. I looked straight into my own eyes in that bathroom mirror and watched them well up. And then I thought of Suzy. I am not sure why, or what made me think of her, but I did. And she brought me back and reminded me how strong she was, and how she always found the humor in everything. And she got me through the next two hours of laying on a cold metal bench, alone and scared, with no clue how I was going to face the next few weeks.

When Suzy died, a lot changed. For all of us. It made us all look at life differently. It made me realize what is worth worrying about, and what is not. And it reminded me that you never know how much time you have. When they told me I had a heart tumor, all those thoughts came rushing back. I was scared, not to die, but to deal with such a major life changing event. But more than being scare, I was mad. I was mad at myself. When Suzy died, I spent a lot of time realizing how much I take for granted, and how lucky I am. For a while, after she died, I had a different outlook on life. I appreciated the smallest things, hugged people harder and longer, and tried to appreciate how much I had. Then that faded. And when the heart tumor reared its head, I realized I was mad at myself for forgetting the lessons I had learned when Suzy passed away. It was then that I realized I didn't want her death to be in vain. What she taught me I never want to have to learn again, and I never want to forget. And I certainly shouldn't have to be reminded about how easy it is to take life for grant by a heart tumor, let alone a friend's death.

This last year, many of my close friends have had babies. Suzy had 2 children, and she was the most amazing mom I have ever met. My girlfriends are all wonderful mothers, but there was just something about Suzy, it was so natural for her. I have a friend who had a little girl who died when she was 18 months old. She passed away, to the day, 2 years before Suzy. This hit me hard last year when I realized it, but, for some reason, is hitting me even harder this year. I can't help but think, though, that Suzy is making sure that little girl is taken of too. She wouldn't have it any other way.

This week at work we were going through old videos on YouTube about our programs at NASA. I was pulling links for some of the videos to include in a presentation for work. And I was not prepared for what I found. In the midst of several student videos was a video produced two years ago for a television show. Half way through the video, I found myself watching Suzy talk about NASA and the program. For the last year I have found pictures of Suzy all over the place. We made a book for her children, so I spent hours pouring over pictures trying to find the right ones to save for her babies. I found a note in my desk she left me two summers ago. We found a card she had made us with her daughter's picture on it. This week, however, was the first time I had heard her voice in over a year. And it hit home that this was it. There won't be more videos of Suzy. We have what we have, and that's all we are going to get. The link to the video is here:

http://youtu.be/3d0aZEDpiAI

I think Suzy would be especially enthralled with the fact that the producers of this video labeled her as an engineer. In the midst of the tears watching this, the "Engineer" title made me giggle. It is SO Suzy! And what I love those most is that, even though she isn't with us anymore, this is a new memory for me, and for her friends. And she is still cracking us up. For some, I imagine this is a comforting thing to watch. I think for others it will be difficult. It's there for those of you who want to hear her voice again. I just wish there was more of it.

For me, dealing with Suzy's death was difficult for several reasons on several levels, most of which I am not going to go into on the internet. Those of you who know, know. Those who don't most likely never will. I will say that it took me longer to mourn her than I expected, and that I don't think I faced her death as head on as I could or should have. Death, I think, is not something you get over in a specified amount of time, or ever, really. But, over the last few weeks, I have realized something. Talking about her has gotten easier. Remembering the fun we all used to have has become somewhat less painful. It makes me smile to remember the crazy days at work we used to spend playing match maker, or the afternoons we spent drinking a few too many beers, or the evenings we spent with (sometimes drunk) astronauts in the Historic Mission Control. She used to just hand me Morgan when she would walk into the room, because she knew how much I loved her. We planned a trip to Colorado last spring when I was going for work. I wish we had followed through and taken that trip, even if she was seven months pregnant. These memories make me smile. She was such a cool girl. We had nothing but fun when we were together. And she was an unforgettable friend. I think, as I reflect on her today, that she would want all of us to love each other like she did. And to give out hugs like they are going out of style. And to just live, happy and healthy, as much as possible. And mostly, to remember her with smiles, not with tears. I won't ever forget Suzy, and I am going to keep remembering all of our fun for years to come. I miss her, but know she is somewhere, watching us all figure out life, and laughing as she enjoys the show.