Mourning rises like an owl

I felt it last night. Oh boy did I feel it. My whole body cried. Looking for the moon in this electrically charged night, during my nocturnal ''escape walk'', feeling the silent heaviness of a solitude I had not been intimidated by in a long time... I kept most of it to myself, not wanting to burden others with my sadness. Which means I was also running away from myself in a sense. Even the moon, my friend, was hiding from me, behind an eclipse mirroring so much of our lives right now...

This was 12 hours after receiving a phone call from a number I recognized while on my way to work. A reassuring number that put a smile on my face because last time we had spoken was about 6 weeks ago and I had been worried and had yet to reach out since coming back from my vacation. ''Hey Tonya, how are you ?'' (I think this is what I asked her, or ''what's up ?''... I cannot remember).

This was okay timing because I had the opportunity to chat a little during my commute but I wanted to make sure we would plan something soon to catch up, maybe our long overdue reading for a bookclub with our friend Cirre, the Pink Wine Book Club that we had started over a decade ago and which consistency had disintegrated during the pandemic. 

Except that it wasn't Tonya's voice I heard. It was Mike's. Her ex-husband. Then I knew. Because my soul stopped pulsing. So I listened. I tried to hear. Process. Bearing his palpable sorrow, mine, and the whole world's.

This can't be. 

NO.

Tonya. My dear Tatiana. Exceptional friend of 14 years. My real first friend since relocating in California. You have seen me through peaks and valleys. And now... just as I was starting to feel a semblance of alignment in my life...

A lot of questions rushed in my head. To her, to life. Why. Why so soon. Oh my Goddess. This is unbearable. I was not prepared for this. I am not ready to say adieu !

Fourteen years. You do not go about your day when 14 years have just been lacerated by an unexpected loss. A loss that leaves an unfillable void I cannot even begin to describe.

I remember vividly some of our very first interactions. Tonya was a licensed technician at the county clinic staffed by UC Davis where I had just been employed. It was July 2012. My youngest boy was weaned off my breast and, emotionally torn from leaving my young boys at home while reintegrating part-time work, I had my first day at this clinic for the underserved populations. It was a baptism by fire: no real orientation, no time to settle in, I saw 8 patients that day. All patients had long lists of diagnoses, medications etc. I had to type progress notes during my days off. All of them had trauma stories, most of which were disclosed to me for the first time. Because I asked questions. Because I always want to understand and go to the root of the problem.

Tonya was part of a team that assisted with needs such as prescription refills. In my overly polite demeanor, I had approached her and asked, ''would you mind...'', to which she replied, ''yes I would mind''. I don't know if it was a test or her playfulness, but it got me hooked. I was mesmerized by her boldness. On another day, because I was wearing a navy blue dress with white stripes, without even looking at me, sitting at her desk while her back was turned against me, she said, in the most natural tone, ''it takes a lot of self-confidence to wear horizontal stripes''. Wow. All I could say was that I had never met someone like her. I soon found out that good advice and encouragement flew in from her. within months, the medical director had left, and the Chair of our department had appointed me to this role. I was not even 40 and thrown into a leadership position bigger than me. Which came with other unfinished tasks I was suddenly supposed to magically lead to completion. I felt disoriented, discovering the annoying political aspects of my work. Another baptism by fire. I remember Tonya walking in my office one morning to tell me I would be like a ''hinge'' (between two locations to offer a program at our site from a different source of funding). She had actually brought something that looked like a long, thick nail that was meant to stabilize a hinge (looking the anatomy of a hinge revealed to me that it is called a pin). I am pretty sure I still have the pin. I will never forget her faith in me. She offered her support with such thoughtfulness and generosity.

She touched so many lives, including my 3 sons'. She loved them as if they were her grandchildren, reading to them, laughing with them. It turns out she was this very dedicated, loving grandmother once her grandson arrived in her life. 

It was always so special when she would show up at our door with her red bag full of stories my kids never got enough of, including some favorites: Amelia Bedelia, Dog Breath: The Horrible Trouble with Hally Tosis. It was always like a celebration to have ''Taaa-neee-a'' (as my youngest would call her) around.

Tonya with my 3 sons

.

There were many disturbances and stressors in our respective lives over the years. Despite hiatuses in communication, our friendship never faded. Tonya continued to be bubbly, with a very addictive thunderous laughter while also finding me, to my own amazement, energetic. I don't know if it was the creative synergy we had that gave her that perception of my self I often perceived as depleted but we always enjoyed each other's company and the novelty element, whether it was the leftovers I had to offer that she seemed very enthusiastic about (to the point of her suggesting I open a special mini restaurant) to her rock ceremony by finding a pebble in my backyard for each guest at The House of Enchantments. Yes, only Tonya could come up so imaginatively with such ideas. She energized my life each time. She teaches everyone to find the beauty and the sacred in everything, including when starting a fire in the fireplace, or selecting the right silverware or mug.

And she always had incredible and thoughtful finds from a thrift store for people she loved, like fancy tea cups with saucers, or miniature bird figurines. My first visit at her house was another fascinating moment, as she let me giggle at the sight of the cougar towel that was meant to fulfill the role of a kitchen window curtain, or the old, small doll having belonged to her daughter sitting on a no less old cathodic TV screen. ''This is what an eccentric character looks like !'', I thought (and yes, it takes one to see one...).

That is right. My quirky self has been in great company with Tonya.

Me dear friend, as a prolific compliment-dispenser, you have the secret to boost other people's self-esteem. There are so many other aspects of you that I admired, including your boldness that can feel startling at first and that we soon get to find irresistible because it is made of jocularity and enthusiasm about others. In other words, pure love.

I am filled with intense emotions at the moment... I alternate between regret and gratitude, sadness and relief, shock and hope, despair and inspiration to continue to live my life to its fullest.

You were there more than for what we saw you for: you came to our life to remind us to love. It is our soul duty to nurture this life force as fiercely as you did. My heart, just like my home, is full of good, happy memories of you and stories about your family, whom you so deeply care about.

With my mother

During my insomnia last night, still in disbelief about your sudden departure, I stepped outside because the light of the night called me. And here it was, the full, luminous moon, in all its glory. I know you are never far, my dear friend. I know your wisdom will continue to whisper along the owls in times of doubt. I know your sense of awe will invite us to expand as you are witnessing our evolution from your new hiding place, whether it is a murmuration in the sky or a blooming flower.

I want to offer my deepest condolences to all your family, including Mike, Zoe, Sean, Zack, Paul, Ari, Mark, Clark and their families, and a multitude of friends.

I know the gratitude will triumph over the sadness. You got to meet my foreign exchange student this past year, and also to see my middle son Andreas after years. You once described him as ''ethereal'' in one of the many text bubbles I reread with tears in my eyes yesterday, as I wanted to cling a little bit more to every piece of your poetic being. That is how seriously you took people. They deserve the best, even the adjectives. Your mother would be proud, I am sure.

Yes, the morning will rise after the mourning... you will continue to remind us of that, as your profound connection to the natural world lives on beyond the tangible dimension, when an owl flows over our heads. And every time we hear the echo of your voice delivering a wisdom wrapped in poetry.

On behalf of my sons Youri, Andreas and Kristof, and everyone in my life who had the privilege to cross paths with you, including my parents, Ken, Gary (you were his first pet-sitter), relatives, friends, and my AFS daughter Bibi, I thank you. We miss you, Tatiana. You have been a blessing in our lives, and your labor of love for all of life will continue. This is how we can honor you: by channeling our joy and our love to all birds, plants, songs and poems you have returned to.

Car💛line