Monday, December 20, 2010

Krissy and Jane

It’s been a long while since I blogged. I stopped for November so I could focus on NANOWRIMO. Once November was over with all the activity surrounding getting ready for the holidays, I was just unable to find my blogging mojo. I wish I could say that this post is about mojo regained, it’s not. This is about the sad waste of a life.

I have a friend, or rather, I HAD a friend, about a year and a half ago I asked her to never call me again. I told her I didn’t need her drama in my life. I told her I couldn’t watch her kill herself. Now she is gone, but before we get there, I want to tell you about my friend.

Krissy was beautiful, intelligent, talented and broken. She was unable to see her own worth and acted like I was crazy when I would tell her how fortunate I felt to be her friend. Krissy was just unable to believe that she was lovable or valuable. I don’t know why, I’m not sure she knew why, so she drank. And drank, and drank.

Krissy drank away everything that ever mattered to her, including her children. She lost custody of both of her daughters because she was unable to stay sober. I think a part of her believed she didn’t deserve them. She told me several times they would be better off without her, they didn't need a mother like her. That made me cry and I told her again and again how fortunate they were to have her.

Krissy was funny, so very funny. She and I had so many inside jokes, all it would take was one word or a hand motion and we would both be laughing so hard, standing with our legs crossed trying not to pee our pants. She always knew what would make me laugh and at work I would get random emails from her, strange ads on craigslist, funny dating profiles, news of the weird. Krissy could find a laugh in just about anything.

Krissy loved movies and she could quote them all. I am not a movie buff. She would start telling me about some funny scene in a movie and start laughing so hard she could barely talk and I would just look at her, not knowing the movie so unable to see the humor and when she would stop laughing she would say " Dammit Jane, why am I your friend? You know nothing about humor." Then she would laugh again.

She always called me Jane, as in Jane you ignorant slut, from Saturday Night Live, and she was my Krissy friend. "Anytime I called her she would answer the phone "Bobs House of Bestiality" or some other perverted sex shop name and then laugh like a hyena and say " Jane you ignorant slut, where have you been all my life?"

Krissy snorted when she laughed, which always made me laugh harder.

Did I mention that she drank? I don’t mean she drank a little, she drank so much that one of the many times I cleaned her apartment after a binge I filled five huge trash cans with empty alcohol containers. I remember thinking that she had consumed more alcohol in a week than most people do in a lifetime. I also wondered how she could live through that kind of drinking, but live she did.

 Our friendship had been broken more than once due to her drinking, I couldn't understand it and I couldn't watch it. I tried to be supportive, to be there for her, to help her over the hard spots. She could be a mean drunk and when you tried to help her she would turn on you so when her youngest daughter was about two I said, no more, I won't do this anymore. I didn't see her for three years.

 After all that time a mutual friend asked for my help because no one had seen her in weeks and he was worried, he asked me to climb through her dog door because I was the only one who could fit. I was mad, I didn't want to be pulled back into that mess. I climbed through the dog door and sat in the car while he went in. After about an hour I had to use the bathroom so I snuck in but she heard me, he told her I was in the car.

 Krissy called my name, I went to the doorway of her bedroom. I was so disgusted, how do you let yourself get to this place? I didn't want anything to do with her.Tears started rolling down her face and she held out her hand to me. Her beautiful hands. Krissy had the hands of a concert pianist. Long, beautiful, delicate fingers, so soft they were childlike. I held her hand and as weak as she was she tried to pull me to her, I climbed into that disgusting bed she had been laying in for weeks and just held her. Krissy put her hand on my cheek, looked in my eyes and said "Jane, is it really you?"

 Trina and I took her to the hospital that time to detox. She was bad, really bad. The alcohol had affected the motor center of her brain and they didn't think she would walk again. The doctor told me she would probably have to go into a nursing home. My beautiful Krissy, unable to even go to the bathroom on her own.

 Somehow she recovered, she got better. I took her home, we cried about it, then, because it was Krissy, we laughed about it. She told me of things that happened in the hospital and the cute little boy nurses that took care of her and we laughed some more. She was determined to get better. I was determined to help her.

Krissy liked to stay busy when she wasn’t drinking, I think it helped her not to drink. She was always finding and restoring some thing that she found at a yard sale or thrift store. Krissy had the ability to take something that most of us would throw away and turn it into something beautiful.

Krissy loved animals, she took in every stray, she found homes for animals that no one else wanted. She loved them with  the love a mother has for her children and every time she woke up in the hospital I had taken her to, yet again, her first question was about her animals.

 In the end, none of these things mattered. That demon on her back was stronger than the love that she had for us or that we had for her, and she fell. I walked away because I couldn't stand it. I could not stand to see her waste her life and all she had to give. I didn't know how to help her in a way that didn't enable her. So I walked away.

Two days ago a homeless woman was found dead in a park bathroom. She was brutally murdered. My beautiful  friend Krissy is no more.

The news report said she fought her attacker so they were looking for someone who liked like they had been in a fight. That was my Krissy, a hell cat to the end. Even in death she made me laugh, I knew she would never go down without a fight.

Goodbye my Krissy friend, you were so loved, I'm so sorry it wasn't enough. We will never forget you and never stop mourning what could have been, if only.........

I will miss you so.

  Kristine Marie Gabel 
September  1, 1965- December 18, 2010