Sitting in Krissy room now, overwhelmed with sadness. Suzy has enough words for everyone; she is so sweet and thoughtful and proper. My words don’t flow that way. I feel quiet and small in her room. When we first walked in it was a shock to see her look so different, but the longer we stay, the more we can see our Krissy – her eyelashes, he eyes, her lips that twitch in that sneaky way like she’s about to crack a joke and crack us up. Her teeth when she smiles.
The first thing she asked was if she could do anything for us from the other side. I asked for a haunting. Something creepy.
She has delivered on the haunting, not so much the creepy. I think about her all the time. I remember all the old stuff that I haven’t thought of in so very long. College days, pink flamingoes, penis cakes, music and laughter. I think about after college, the u, dada, jello shots, boys and more boys, more music and laughter, marriage and penis pinatas, more music and laughter. She has been a constant in my life. Even since my time turned to family and suburbia, and hers to running in the wilderness, we would talk once a month or so, remember each other’s birthdays. I remember her generosity, it was extreme sometimes and I don’t know that I deserved it. I remember her sense of humor, she had a way of seeing the sexual at once as beautiful and hilarious; she had a way of finding art and humor in places no one thinks to look – cane toads? who knew? I remember her love, she had so much of it, I think it really shaped us girls. We were never competitive like I hear about with other girls, we were always in love with each other. I knew that if someone was a friend of Krissy, they were instantly a friend of mine. Do you know how many friends she had? I remember Rungren. I remember going to see Todd Rungren and both of us holding each other crying. It was Krissy who inadvertently got me married the second time around. One of the last times we talked, we agreed that we had found true love with our husbands, and how lucky we were. David is so much like her, creative, giving without thinking, and now finding his path. I know this isn’t the end. I know she will still be here, because I will never forget. Sweet, sweet, Krissy.