The Hole.  By Kiva Schuler

The Hole. By Kiva Schuler

. 4 min read

When one PrimeCrush writer sees a stranger who resembles a friend who’s passed away, it reminds her of “the hole” dear friends leave behind

The kids and I were grabbing burgers Thursday night and there was a mom there with her kids: She had a look about her. The way she ate her food, her freckles, her profile, the way she used her napkin and how her eyes crinkled when she smiled. I couldn't stop staring.

The kids noticed it, too--the resemblance--and I started to cry. My sweet boy hugged me and told me “it’s okay.”

I wanted to go up to the woman and tell her that she looked just like my best friend, the one cancer took away from me. But I didn't. I just smiled at her.

I find myself wondering if she and I would be friends, if we would banter for hours, and sometimes drink too much wine, if she could hold all my troubles, watch me make bad choices sometimes, and love me anyway.

Andrea and I used to imagine our side-by-side retirement beach bungalows and laugh at the idea that we would wear clothes that looked "redic" on 70-year-old women. (She shortened words into Andrea-isms A.T.T.—that’s how Dre would say have said “all the time.”)

A few weeks ago my guy needed to go into the Boston medical complex for a small thing and the night before I couldn't sleep. It felt like there was an elephant on my chest. Was I being a crazy girlfriend--worried over the most routine of procedures?

This explanation made no sense to me. I'm a Jewish mother at heart, but I don't tend to over-worry these things.

As soon as we arrived, I understood. My soul already knew where we were going. Because we were standing at the doors of the wing where we needed to go once to get her port flushed.

And down the hall... that's where I held her hand while they drained fluid from her lungs, doing everything I could do to not faint at that huge freaking needle.

The doors to Dana Farber that I knew so well were right across the street. I looked up and there were the windows I spent so many hours gazing out of, while the poison that certainly prolonged her beautiful life... drip, drip, dripped.

Andrea would be so proud of the new life that I've created since she left. She was so adamant that I go find a new life…that I fly high and free…as I clearly heard her demand when they carried her casket past the pew where I sat with the husband she knew I was so desperate to leave.

She would be awed that somehow my new home is always neat and clean--because my messiness used to drive her crazy. She’d remind me of the time, right after we met, that I peeled off my socks, left them strewn in her foyer, and put my naked feet on her coffee table, much to her distaste.

We would be relishing a regular practice of throwing marshmallows at the television when politicians said dumb things, and we would probably be doing more about it than I am at the moment.

Andrea had a way of inspiring people to take action and do something. My mama says that his hole I have, where Andrea was...probably it won't get filled, at least not in the same way. That there will be other friendships. But probably not one like ours. “You two grew each other up,” she says.

This feels true. And also probably explains why I daydream about a friendship with a woman I saw in a restaurant.

I miss having my back had the way she had it. And I miss holding her hand during football games, cringing when she screamed and cursed at the Patriots. She loved football—me, not so much--but her delight delighted me.

I miss the pace of our conversations. We were like birds who could happily chirp away at each other for hours...and their depth. 'Cause you get to talk about some pretty epic shit with your best friend when she’s dying.

When Andrea died, I had to choose to live. For both of us. To go for all that life has to offer with all I have to offer.

To savor all of the beautiful things, and let their juices drip down my chin. “Well, not the Pino, that would be rude,” says the voice that lives on in my heart.

If you love me as much as I love you (and I really do love you!), then please help me grow by forwarding this {love} Letter to a friend!  And I'd love to have you join us on instagram, facebook & twitter.

The Crush Letter
The Crush Letter is a weekly newsletter curated by Dish Stanley on everything love & connection - friendship, romance, self-love, sex. If you’d like to take a look at some of our best stories go to Read Us. Want the Dish?




Tags

"Divorce, Baby, Divorce" by Liza Lentini "Don't Touch My Hat.*" Midlife Men & Loneliness "This is a Tale of Modern Love ..." 3 Things I Love Right Now 5 Great Boutique Hotels Around NYC. By Jeanne Bosse 5 things that turn our crush readers on A Book That Could Unf*ck Your Relationship: I Want This To Work By Elizabeth Earnshaw. Reviewed By Angela Kempf. A Circle of Crones. By Elayne Clift A Roman Love Affair. By Lady Verity A Truly Good Thing. By Dish Stanley A Turntable and a Candle: F-ing Classics About Face: Skincare Essentials for Men Amplify! Sex with Emily: The 12 Episodes CRUSH Readers Should Get on Top of An Upbeat Playlist for the Divorce-curious And I Wondered ... Do We Really Need A SATC Reboot? And Just Like That... Who Are These People?? By Jeanne Bosse Another brother gained and lost. By Jeanne Bosse Bedtime Rituals for Couples. By :auren D. Weinstein Bisexually Anxious Among the Noodges. Review: shiva Baby Bloody Good Sex Book Review: A Certain Hunger by Chelsea G. Summers Book Review: Norma Kamali: I Am Invincible Book Review: Swan Dive: The Making of a Rogue Ballerina by Georgina Pazcoguins. Reviewed By Lady Varity Book Review: The Confidence Game: Why We Fall For It Every Time By Maria Konnikova' Book Review: The Lover. By Marguerite Duras. Book Review: The Story of O CRUSH Summer Reading List! From CRUSH Reader Sharon Weinberg, Owner of The Chatham Bookstore Dear Dish DEVOUR {things to do, have & know about} Dish Gets A Kink Assessment. Doing Nothing With Friends Eating Out. No Reservations Required. By Sugar Lips Effortless, Natural Holiday Makeup. By Lauren D. Weinstein Extended Encounters. By Lisa Ellex F*ck Songs. Three Best Jazz Albums for a Sexy Night In. By Lisa Ellex Five Best Jazz Clubs Around The Country. By Lisa Ellex Foria's Totally Useful Guide to Sexting Four Indie Bookstore That Stayed In My Life Long After I Left Town. By Dish Stanley French Kiss: French Girls Do It Better, Right? Fun in the sun skincare tips Girl Crush. By Lady Verity Grief. By Lauren D. Weinstein Heard It at The Grammys: Dishs Crush on Silk Sonic Hefner. By Bob Guccione, Jr Hide A Love Note In Their Pocket. Holiday Perspectives. By Dean Christopher Hook Ups Hot Thots How to Be the Most Charming Person at a Holiday Party. By Evie Arnaude I just turned 60 but I feel 22 I'm Dish, the Master of Ceremonies In Good Hands. Kathy: This Is A Love Story About Three Friends Lamentations on the Lost Art of Kissing. By Elisabeth C. Lamotte Leave the husband, bring the cannoli. By A.K.A. Darla Let's Reconsider, with Adam Grant Love & Mike's "Bad Girl Pasta" Love/Sex/Moon Magick By Lynn Eaton LXIX. By A.K.A. Darla Melissa Biggs Bradley's New Book Safari Style Makes Me Want To Go On A Safari MIDLIFE CRISIS: When Reality Strikes, By Dean Christopher Movie Magic. By Amy Ferris My First Solo Trip: Mexico, Part I. By Dawn Larsen Naked & Not afraid by KC Roth Nice to Meet You. How Are You Crazy? Oasis in the Desert. One woman's honest journey through vaginal rejuvenation. OMG Yes. Pillow Tawk (or NOT)? Play well with others. By Dish Stanley Playing Games: A Review of Esther Perel's New Sold Out Card Game. Podcast Review: Dying for Sex. Why You Need to Listen to Molly's Journey. PrimeCrush & Chill: The Hottest Thing to Watch Right Now Is A 1968. French Psychodrama "La Piscine" PrimeCrush Cocktail Coaster Giveaway! QUIVER. Sexual Debut Stories. Red Flags Reports from the edge. By Jane Boon Sexual Frustrations. By Elisabeth C Lamotte Shameless Quick & Easy Mac & Cheese. By Evie Arnaude Sighs & Moans. By Ralph Greco SIP. Best Lines from the Double Dates Podcast Hosted by Marlo Thomas & Phil Donahue Six Ways to Get the Friends Who Count Snapshot Rec: Get Yourself Sexify-ed on Netflix. Snapshot Rec: Read Liza Lentini on the Indigo Girls in SPIN Solo in my Sixties. By Jeanne Bosse Songs That Make You Wanna F*ck. Stanley Tucci Is Paradise Stories to Read Aloud to a Lover. By A.K.A. Darla Tell Me More. By Dish Stanley The 3 Things You're Really Fighting About The 4 Most Common Skincare Issues for Men (But Were Afraid to Ask). By Lauren D. Weinstein The Crush Letter 44 The Crush Letter 51: DEVOUR The Crush Letter 58 the crush letter 72 the crush letter 73 The Crush Letter 75 the crush letter 77 The Crush Letter Its a tune The Crush Letter No 33 The Crush letter No 36 The Crush Letter No 39 The Crush Letter No 40 The Crush Letter No 41: DEVOUR The Crush Letter No 42 The Crush Letter No 43 The Crush Letter No 45 The Crush Letter No 53 The Crush Letter No 54 The Crush Letter No 55 The Crush Letter No 56 DEVOUR The Crush Letter No 57 The Crush Letter No 59 The Crush Letter No 60: DEVOUR The Crush Letter No 61 The Crush Letter No 62 the crush letter no 63 The Crush Letter No 64 The Crush Letter No 65: DEVOUR The Crush Letter No 66 The Crush Letter No 67 The Crush Letter No 68 The Crush Letter No 69 The Crush letter No 70 The Crush Letter No 74: DEVOUR The Crush Letter No 78 The Crush letter No:71 DEVOUR The Dynamics of Friendhip By Lauren D. Weinstein The Friendship Files By AKA Darla The Hole. By Kiva Schuler The Holiday Anti-Checklist By Liza Lentini The Perfect Snowy Saturday. By Jeanne Bosse The Ritual of Comforts. By Lady Verity The Sex Position Report. By Dish Stanley Thee Timeless Travel Books. By Bob Guccione Jr. Things To Let Go Of. By Dish Stanley To get all of us, subscribe. TOPIX Treats: A Sex Toy Tester Update Under The Radar Series. By Dish Stanley Who Are CRUSH Readers Grateful For? You're My Medicine You're Wearing A Turtleneck, Again? Your Big Green Heart. By Liza Lentini Your Love Is King & Queen, GQ Zoning Out in Comfort. By Dean Christopher