I posted this on FB a few days ago and though I should post it here as well:
On Easter morning (Sunday March 31st) just as my feet hit the floor, Katie, who had been sitting up in bed checking her messages, let out a gasp. “No no no no no” quickly followed, but without volition, like an engine misfiring. Her limbs and face spasmed as if being pulsed with high voltage. She looked back and forth between me and her screen. I came quickly to her side and followed her eyes to the source of the voltage. It was an email from the neighborhood group where we used to live on Disney Lane in Sedona. Katie was still in that group. The subject simply said “nadi” (yes, no caps) and the message was brief:
1. nadi (lady living in greg & suzha's old house) has died
2. based on what little we know it seems to be an accidental death.
It couldn’t be true. I was so sure of this that I immediately texted Nadi to see if she would reply. She did not, at least not over text.
It couldn't be true because Nadi was only 50, because she had recently been in a very good place in her life, better than most of us had yet witnessed. It couldn't be true because she was our housemate for a year and a half, our close friend, our chosen family. We just talked last week. We had a meeting on Wednesday to plan our next episode together.
But as the morning unfolded and my walls of denial came falling in, I, like so many of Nadi’s loved ones, was forced to face the truth of my bereavement. As with any loss worth grieving, the magnitude of this loss will unfold over time. And while it's too soon for any of us to make comprehensive assessments, the following is very clear.
We miss her already, and we miss her terribly.
Nobody did Presence like Nadi. Above almost all things, Nadi valued dropping in deep to a 1:1 connection. She would do so any time the opportunity presented itself, even in the middle of a dance party or a massive convention. When connecting with Nadi, the whole world would disappear except for the two of you.
And the deeper the connection the better. Sure Nadi loved playful banter. She had a wicked sense of humor and a belly laugh that she let out with total abandon at the slightest provocation. But Nadi could barely tolerate idle chit chat. She required depth because she was very intelligent and contemplative and needed the stimulation of connection and deep conversation to help navigate this life.
Also, she needed depth because of the superficiality and ignorance she saw in our social structures and our culturally propagated interpersonal practices. She couldn’t just sit there and chit chat, ignoring the elephants in the room. Also, Nadi was deeply emotional and the world was a scary place. She needed allies to help her sort it all out, make some sense, find some way through. We spent many many evenings down on Disney Lane sifting through the darkness, finding optimism for the state of the world, the country, our community, and our individual lives. And she did this with all of those whom she counted as friends, and often with strangers (aka new friends).
Nadi demanded truth and authenticity. None of us ever had to guess where we stood with Nadi. To Nadi, trying to hide her feelings was like trying to hide a crop circle next to StoneHenge. She couldn’t hide her feelings from you even if it meant risking the friendship. But that wasn’t really an issue because, if I/we/whomever met her with the truth and authenticity, no matter how hard it was, she would rise up and meet us with the same, because to Nadi, nothing trumped human connection and relationship (except maybe her sweet kitty Omemo).
My relationship with Nadi enhanced my ability to put my feelings on the table and hash it out, trusting that doing so would not result in a bridge burning, but would be received well, and in all likelihood result in a deepening of our friendship. Cohabitating gave us the opportunity to deepen our friendship in this way many times and I came out of our time together loving Nadi like family. I know Katie feels the same.
I stood in shock on Easter morning, gazing at Mount Tamalpais out the window of the home we were watching in Marin. As a butterfly floated past the window I had 3 thoughts in this order.
1. Lots of people like to think that their passed loved ones communicate to them by showing up as something physical, like a certain flower, or a butterfly
2. I wonder how Nadi would choose to show up for us, if that were even a thing?
3. How would I even know? (because i think a lot of people just choose something and go with it, and that doesn’t seem authentic)
We road tripped with Nadi multiple times. Nadi loved Hawks. She pointed them out constantly, even in places where they seemed unlikely to live. As Katie and I were driving through the city on the interstate that day, a beautiful redtail hawk flew in front of the van, 20 feet above the highway, banked to show us her belly, her ruddy tailfeathers and the unmistakable markings on her wings, then banked back towards us, passing directly over the van. Katie just said “Hey Nadi.”