I find it so difficult to write even a Facebook post sometimes. To reveal myself. Today I went for a long walk and I thought about this problem. Then I discovered thoughts of a good friend of mine, Adrienne, who reveals herself all the time. To the world. I'll never forget her showing off her tattoos while we were at work together in the Writing Center at Community College of Denver. And she pointed to a beauty on her ankle and said, in full voice (she never whispers), "I got that after I got my master's degree." In Medieval Literature, folks. She's everything and she tells it all. Once she came late to work and said she was at the doctor's office. "I love to go to the doctor. I get all the attention." She says stuff that we all think and hold close to our hearts, but wouldn't dare claim. Not Adrienne. She is out there. When she's happy, you know. When she's sad, you know about it.
Adrienne told me about having cancer 9 years ago in her hospital bed. She's a fighter. I didn't even blink. Adrienne's got this; but I told others in our tight little group to visit her and call her. She called me one night last week and said it was back. Nine fucking years. No one gets off when cancer has you in its sites. I hate cancer. And I don't want my very good friend Adrienne to have to go through all the crap she will have to in order to survive this shit again. She represents to so many people who we want to be like – ourselves, in the raw, naked, out there, saying exactly what she believes. We want our essences to be seen. Adrienne's essence – I saw it and heard it from the first time she opened her mouth and revealed her gigantic heart – is always set on True A.
I want to be known for me the way Adrienne is known for herself. And I want her around for a long, long, long time. She will because so many people love her the way I do, too. She's an atheist so don't pray for her. Send her light and humor and great gobs of healing energy. I love Adrienne.