Becky Jo called the last two nights, and we’ve been talking. A lot. And it’s helped me immeasurably. I told her that if something happened to me, I didn’t want her to be depressed. I mean, I’d want her to be UPSET about it, but I wouldn’t want her to succumb to misery. I wouldn’t want anyone to have to live like that. Amy wouldn’t, either. If our positions were reversed, I would want her to mourn me, then spend every minute relishing her new daughter and drinking life in. I spent almost three days in bed hiding from the world and moping. Now I feel like I need to take advantage of this opportunity– this single turn I get. I’ll always remember Amy. Always. I’ll do justice to her memory by keeping it alive. I can’t just give up. I need to keep moving, keep going.

I found something I wrote in 2003 that sums it up–

And I had this serenity– this strange eerie settling inside– like I was completely okay with the fact that I would one day die and turn to ashes and this little creature would live on past me and create new life, new ideas, new stories. It was like I wasn’t the entire timeline anymore; just part of a greater continuum.

Amy left behind a beautiful, tiny, thriving legacy here on Earth. I’m so happy for that.

I found a surprising source of comfort in– of all things– PREPARE YOURSELF– country music. On the way to do errands tonight, I flipped to the county station. Just: why not? Several of the songs dealt with birth and death, and they did it in such a matter-of-fact manner. Just that it happens. You arrive, then you go back (to Heaven: all country songs send you to Heaven, which is nice). That’s the cycle. The trick is enjoying the middle.

BECCA: I don’t know why people make fun of country music so much. It’s not sad at all. It’s actually pretty amazing.

BECKY JO: I know. People never lose their dogs or have their wives leave them or their trucks get totalled. It’s not like the stereotypes.

BECCA: SERIOUSLY. Country music life is like my ideal world. It’s all running around in your shorts, drinking lemonade, going swimming in lakes, tailgate parties. That is my ultimate FANTASY.

BECKY JO: It sounds wonderful, honestly. You and I could be neighbors.

BECCA: YES. And I’d have one of those big double front porches.

BECKY JO: With rocking chairs! And our kids would play out front in their bare feet, and you’d have the one tree with the tire swing–

BECCA: –with the tire swing! YES! I was just going to say that! And there would be that corner at the end of the porch where Dave and Jason would play chess. Like one of those old outdoor chess sets.

BECKY JO: YES!

BECCA: And we’d drink half lemonade, half iced tea. In our rockers.

BECKY JO: Oh yes. Definitely. And we’d wear floral dresses on Sunday, when we went to church, but then the rest of the week we’d wear those jean capris with sleeveless button-up blouses.

BECCA: I’m SO with you. Yes. And those white Ked things. For working in the garden.

BECKY JO: We’d have to have a garden! We’d be so tan and toned, because we’d be planting daffodils all the time.

BECCA: I know. And we’d have like three dogs between us and seven kids, and they’d always run through the garden and get it all muddy, and we’d be all, “MY STARS!”

BECKY JO: Bwahahahaha! YES! YES!

BECCA: And the boys would have those jean overalls.

BECKY JO: With one side unbuttoned?

BECCA: OF COURSE. And there would only be one general store, and one post office.

BECKY JO: Yes, it would be a small town, and everyone would know everyone’s business. And when we came in, they’d say, “Hi, Missuz B” and “Hi, Missuz K”.

BECCA: YES, and we would go everywhere together. They’d be like, “B—— and K—–, like peaz in a pod.”

(This is much funnier if you can hear our country accents. Mine sounds like Jason’s dad.)

BECKY JO: YES.

BECCA: And there would only be one church, and everything would happen there. You’d go on Sunday, and then there would be like church fairs and raffles and bingo and funerals and weddings and christenings and holiday events.

BECKY JO: Please tell me our town has a drive-in theater.

BECCA: It’s the perfect Americana town. OF COURSE it does.

BECKY JO: PERFECT.

BECCA: I’m gonna put that on our list.

Becky Jo and I are making an Ideas List of things to do when she comes to town this weekend. So far, our list includes:

Riding horses.

Sock puppets and assorted crafts.

Watch ‘Medium’.

Watch ‘Deuces Wild’.

Play ‘Grim Fandango’.

Drive-in movie theater.

The other day I wrote her an e-mail, and I was like, “Is it weird that we have the same relationship that we did at 13? Like, we’re always trying to have sleepovers and pass notes during the day?” and she was like, “If by weird you mean GREAT.”

In other happier news, I am officially nominated for Best-Kept Secret Weblog in the 2008 Bloggies. PLEASE GO VOTE FOR ME. I’ll pretty much only ask you to vote for two things in my entire life, and that’s this, and if I’m ever up for being president. Words can’t express how jazzed I am about being in the running. That’s right: jazzed. That’s above and beyond Stoked. I am JAZZED. I know it’s probably cool to be blasé about this kind of thing– all, “Web award? Whatever.”– but I’m completely dorky and want to win. (Sadly, I really like everyone else in my category. I wish they weren’t all so awesome, because that means the possibility of victory comes with a side order of guilt. Especially sweet Rachel, who has been pure loveliness. If you hate my site and need another option, totally go for her.)

This was the first thing I’ve been happy about since I found out about That Which I Don’t Want To Keep Addressing. I told my rock climbing buddy, Brian, about it. “It’s like the Oscars or Golden Globes,” I said, “for the INTERNET.”

“Oh, cool,” Brian said. Kindly.

“It would be awesome to get an award after five years.”

“You’ve been writing a blog for FIVE YEARS?” he asked, now sort of shocked. But not a good shocked. The same shocked he would have been if I said I’d been collecting lizard scales in a jar.

“Yep.” We looked at each other. Then, me: “Okay– let’s do this wall. Green course.” TOPIC CHANGE. Heh. I like Brian. I hope Brian doesn’t think I’m too much of a nerd. A small nerd is fine, but not large enough that he stops belaying me for free. (Brian, though, told me his great dream in life was to learn the tango; because he watched ‘Scent of a Woman’ as a child and thought that scene was “the most beautiful thing [he'd] ever seen”. So we’re both a little passionate about our hobbies.)

(PS: Why did I ever put ‘Forever Young’ on my iTunes? That’s pretty much the worst possible song right now.)