No, I'm not ready

This is my denial mantra. I don’t want Lara to be gone and if I have to admit the truth I want to be able to change it. But I can’t change death. I feel helpless. It is so permanent. Yet I keep seeing Lara everywhere. Ruby, Clyde and I went to the Seattle Art Museum Sculpture Garden yesterday. There is a sculpture called Love and Loss. We sat there a long time and I thought of Chad. Ruby played in the pool of water and we threw coins in to signify our wishes. I can’t tell you mine or it won’t come true. We watched boats and the mountains. The wind was blowing and the clouds were swirling. The rain, I could see it headed our way. As I carried Ruby and Clyde back to the car I thought of Lara.

I remember the first time I saw Lara was at the UW rock about 12 years ago. She was climbing and joking with all the boys. Greedy and Chavez were there. Stevey D rode up on his bike. I was so impressed with the way she could hold so much: beauty, grace, humor, and sex appeal, yet be so strong and so one of the boys. Everyone rotated around her as if she were the sun. She drew everyone’s attention and in turn gave all who looked her way a nod or sweet greeting.

Over the passing years we saw each other at Feathered Friends, dancing up a storm at parties and of course for girl’s nights and weekends. Whenever I saw her I always felt she had time for me. Yes, she lived three lives in one day, of which I am in awe; and she always had time and space for her friends. I never felt rushed. I just felt Lara’s undivided attention, unless of course she was watching the Tour de France…

Most of our adventures together were spent tele skiing, drinking pink wine and looking at magazines, usually with Cece and Merridy. Once I had the opportunity to rock climb with her, well sort of... We went out to climb the new sport route (well not so new now) out past Mailbox Peak. We had a nice time driving and filling the time with conversation about our men Chad and Neil, our experience in grad school and dogs. We finally arrived with marginal beta at how to find the trail. Well, we had a blast bushwhacking. Driving up and down the road asking, “What do you think about that? Does it look like a trail? Let’s check it out.” I felt like I was in the woods where I grew up aimlessly looking for something to discover. Finally, we decided to throw in the towel and head back to the city for coffee.

Then, a car with two young men pulled up. They asked us if we climbed the route. We told our story of the trail search, Lara exchanged phone numbers with them and we each continued on our way. As soon as they were out of sight, Lara turns the car around and says I can't let them find the route first. And back we went. On our way back we decided we could let it go, which was hard for Lara. But she had given them her phone number so they could call us with beta. We would go back another time and climb the route.

Well, we never got to go back and climb. I am so sad that she is gone. I am sad for all that I will miss. I am sad for Chad and all others that loved her. She is irreplaceable. And though I am not ready to admit her passing, she lives on in her example of a generous life. Lara calls upon me to be the best person I can be. To smile through adversity, to love my friends through good and bad times, to love my partner deeply, to keep running and climbing, to find humor in everyday, to keep up on the current fashions, to continue to learn and grow academically and never, never stop drinking coffee and pink wine! Through her example I hope to live my life fuller each day. I know my children will grow up with stories of the legend of Lara. As if she was some fairy queen or superhero, which is not far from the truth.

Blessing to all in this tough time.

Tracy Rekart