A year

March 14^th marked the day where my best friend called and told me her mom had a stroke. I will probably always remember every detail of that day. I remember what that when she called, I was making gluten-free and dairy-free cookies to take down to Phoenix so I could go see my grandma. When she told me she was coming to Flagstaff, I got SO excited cause it had been a few years since I had seen her. When she told me why she was coming to Flagstaff, I remember thinking that people recover from strokes all the time, so I thought nothing of it.

Then I get a text message from “Mom Munoz” on my phone and I instantly think everything is going to be ok, cause OBVIOUSLY she’s doing much better if she’s sending me text messages. It went off a few times and when I was finally able to check it, I saw “Nan in hospital.” “Stephanie is going to need you.” “Roger.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I head over to the hospital, to ICU where everyone is, and as soon as I walk into her room, I knew she wasn’t there. I knew she wasn’t going to recover. I knew this was going to be one of the worst days.

I had to stop sending text messages to my best friend and keep the seriousness of this event to myself. She had to fly from Oregon and the reason why she made it sound like it wasn’t a big deal was because Roger made it sound like it wasn’t a big deal so she could some-what fly sanely.

I went home for about three hours to try and take a nap before she arrived (around 12.30 the next morning, the 15^th). We were all there waiting for her. We took her to a different room to kind of prepare her for what she was about to walk into.

I stayed with her the whole night. I never once left her side. I was always as close as I could be as we laid next to Nan for the whole evening.

Anyway, I don’t need to continue in THIS much detail. What I wanted to get to was the fact that it’s been a year since Nan died. It’s been the longest and slowest year of my life so far.

This Saturday, a group of ten of us did the hike Nan always did in the Spring. It was the Schnebly Hill hike. The gate was closed, so we basically started at the freeway exit and hiked all the way down to Tlaquepaque for lunch. At least 15 miles, and a group of four us did it just shy of the 4 hours that was planned. The rest of the group was about 5.5 hours.

We couldn’t have asked for a better day hiking. It started off cool in the higher elevations and it got warm, but not hot throughout the day. We stopped and had snacks, appreciated the beauty of seeing Sedona, and I wrote “Nan” in some sand along the side of the road.

To my surprise, I wasn’t highly emotional. I felt sadness, sure, knowing she wasn’t going to physically hike this hike anymore, but I didn’t cry, feel the need to, or think it appropriate. It was a beautiful day. Perhaps I wasn’t as emotional as I thought I was going to be because I have been emotional for the past year. Perhaps it’s getting easier for me to deal with the fact that her soul is no longer here. Perhaps I am getting a bit more comfortable in mortality and knowing we are here for a reason, and once we’ve accomplished that reason, we’re all going to leave.

I got to spend three days with my best friend and it was great. We ate good food, baked, went to the knitting store, had a girls night with another one of our friends. It really was such a joyful experience and it felt good. I know Nan was with us every step of the way, and she will always be with us. And while her body, her vessel isn’t here, I know that her soul, her energy is here and will always be in my heart. And for that, I am grateful.

Here’s to Nan and her witchy laugh. Wherever she may be, I know she’s giggling and having a great time.