Sweet Amber........

She used to be mine ~ Sara Bareilles

Amber. Where do I even begin!  I’ve spent so much time trying to figure out how to write about another dear friend who was taken from us far too soon. My heart simply couldn’t bring itself to write anything else until I could find a way to write about Amber. If you’ve been following along, you may have read my blog about Becca, Amber passed just months after her. Two significant losses, both incredibly impactful on my life.

Community and friends have asked why I haven’t been writing lately, I told them the truth, I can’t move forward until I write about Amber. I feel stuck. Every time I try to write about my time with her, the weight of guilt often overcomes me more than sadness or anger. Three years have passed, and still, I bow my head in guilt every time I think of her.

I spent a significant amount of time on the phone with my close friend TK, who, like me, grew up alongside Amber. When I say we grew up with her, I mean we shared so many memories from childhood through junior high, high school, and even college. Amber wasn’t just a friend, she was family. For TK and me, she was as essential as one of our own limbs. Losing her felt like losing a part of ourselves, and that loss has left us both with a permanent emptiness, a disability that we’ll carry with us for the rest of our lives.

I was sharing with TK how I have so many treasured memories with Amber, but I’m also carrying a deep sense of guilt that’s made it really fucking hard for me to move forward with my blogging. She expressed similar feelings and, at the same time, understood exactly why I’ve been struggling to take the next step. She was able to validate my emotions, offer support, and encourage me to be kind to myself through it all. It’s been about two months since that conversation, and I’ve been sitting with this blog, unsure of how to move forward, until now. TK’s words have stayed with me, gently urging me to continue this journey, even though it means facing moments of pain and sadness.

Amber was the undefeated champion of peek-a-boo, and honestly, she should’ve had a trophy for it. She had this magical ability to pop in and out of our lives without any warning, disappearing like a ninja, and you never had a clue where she’d gone. After knowing her for so long, this became not just normal but totally acceptable behavior. You’d never think she was in any kind of trouble because, before you could even start to wonder, she’d just reappear like nothing ever happened, and it was as if time hadn’t skipped a beat.

We definitely lost touch a few times, sometimes a year or two would go by, and then boom, there she was again, like some sort of pop-up book. At one point, she ran off and got married young to her sweetheart, and the whole thing lasted about as long as a Snapchat story. After that, she was in and out of relationships, bartending, and just floating through life like the rest of us, except she did it with more flair and less responsibility. While I was a front-row participant in the drama of her life, our friendship didn’t really hit its peak until around 2007-2008. At that point, I was with my girlfriend, trying my best to play the "stepparent" role to her adorable baby girl, which was basically me pretending to have my life together. Of course, that relationship hit the skids, and we were nearing the dramatic end of our "happily ever after." To avoid the reckless baby mama drama, I would head over to a local bar Stockman’s, which became my sanctuary since it was a mere five-minute walk away. One night, Amber and I ran into each other there, and from that moment on, we were inseparable, like a pair of bad decisions that just couldn’t quit each other.

We were like Thelma and Louise making terrible decisions and painting the town with chaos, but honestly, we were having a fucking blast while doing it, with absolutely no sense of direction. We worked, we partied, we talked about bettering our lives but let's be real, we had all the right words and none of the drive to back it up. We were reckless, yet carefree, and we did it all together. But, underneath the fun, I was dealing with a crushing heartbreak not so much from losing the girlfriend, but from losing that adorable baby girl. She used to jump in her crib every morning, saying goo goo gaa gaa, flashing that massive smile with those piercing blue eyes wanting me to pick her up, all the way to the moments she started sitting at the dinner table, asking me how my day was. Talk about a gut punch.

Through all those awkward moments, Amber was there. And so was another friend, Cara, all the way out in Arizona.

Cara came up with the brilliant idea that I should move to Arizona, get a fresh start, and escape the dumpster fire of a life I was currently in. She basically offered me a roof over my head, a job, and a place to heal, just a quick hop, skip, and a jump... you know, a whole other state away.  I sat on this offer for about two weeks, convincing myself I was "weighing my options," when really, I just couldn’t ignore the fact that it was probably time to run as far as I could from the emotional chaos.  The lesbian circle was big yet small, kind of like a dating app where you keep swiping, but somehow you always end up on the same five profiles. So, the chances of running into my ex were ridiculously high. And since we parted on more than just a bad note, it felt like a never ending reminder that I had been a stepparent who actually cared about someone other than myself. That was the real heartbreak, who knew trying to be a decent human being could cause so much emotional collateral damage!! 

Amber helped me pack up my life and get me ready for the road. We were parting ways, and to be honest, I had a ton of mixed feelings plus a healthy dose of fear. Fear of starting over, fear of the unknown. I mean, I grew up in my town my family was here, my friends were here, and my bond with Amber was here. Arizona was supposed to be a quick pit stop, but I ended up staying for two years, which, frankly, was about 23 months longer than I thought I would. But Cara really took me under her wing during that time. She helped me heal, and I honestly believe her unwavering support helped me grow in ways I don’t think I ever would have back in my hometown. Amber and I stayed in touch the whole time, and, as expected, she was on a plane the minute I decided it was time to pack up and head back home. Because, well, no one gets left behind not even in a cross-country move. The 14-hour drive ended up taking about 17 hours, and honestly, now that I think about it, I kind of wish I was still in that truck with her, cruising down the endless highway, blasting music, and pretending like we weren’t two lost souls.

Amber had everything set up for my grand return home mostly just a roof over my head, but hey, that’s a start. She had been living with our old pal Lisa, who just so happened to have an extra room ready for me. It didn’t take long before I landed a job, moved out of Lisa’s place, and started sharing space with my buddy Jason, of course, Amber tagged along with. She was still bartending, and when I landed my job, I ended up getting her a job too. At this point, we were like a two-for-one special, buy one, get the other free. It wasn’t long before Amber started dating a girl she’d end up with for the next 5-7 years, and I reconnected with an old flame from childhood who I would go onto marry.  Amber and her girlfriend got a place, my girlfriend and I got a place, and just like that, we went from a unit of two to a notorious four. 

Our relationships were a constant rollercoaster thankfully, we had each other to hang on to. We found ourselves drinking a lot and completely neglecting our responsibilities in our relationships just being a couple of idiots until one day, we woke up and realized we needed meditation and workouts in our lives. We traded in our beer bottles for barbells, swapped prep talks for mantras, and wrapped our necks in mala beads like we were enlightened monks on a fitness mission. The girls were always so suspicious about us heading to our meditation classes that I remember them asking if they could go, we told them no and it was our thing.  I’m pretty sure they jumped in a vehicle and followed us and realized we were doing exactly what we said we were doing.  Shame on them. Around this time, Amber got serious about becoming a firefighter. She dove into the education and training program, determined to make it happen. She trained every day, ate healthy, and got ridiculously fit. At one point, she was surpassing me in the "getting in shape" department, and I remember feeling super jealous, like, "What the hell? What am I not doing?" She was a fierce competitor, no doubt totally blowing me out of the water at every turn and opportunity.

Amber passed her exams but couldn't land a career as a firefighter, and that pretty much crushed her spirit and all the hard work she'd put in. Not long after, her relationship started plummeting honestly, both of our relationships were spiraling downhill. I remember when my 40th birthday came around. I thought, "Let’s keep it low-key, a small barbecue, drinks, and some music." Nothing fancy to celebrate the big 4-0. Naturally, everyone got pretty hammered, especially my wife at the time. She went inside, slapped on a Sarah McLachlan CD, and turned what was supposed to be a fun party into a sad PETA commercial. Of course, we got into a huge fight over the music, and she stormed off, along with the rest of the guests, except for Amber.

So, there we were, sitting on my deck, and Amber asked if I wanted to join everyone at the Forty. I declined, saying I was just going to clean up and crash. I’ll always remember this moment, Amber came into my room, gently grabbed my hand to wake me up, and said we were going to Starbucks because she had something to tell me. I was hesitant, but I mustered up the strength to power through the hangover. She sat down with me and said, "We’re best friends, so don’t get mad." Apparently, at the Forty, my wife decided to make out with the entire fucking bar. As Amber tried to get her attention, my wife was happily lip-locking and spit-swapping with every stranger in the place.

I told Amber I wasn’t surprised, it was what it was. When my wife finally woke up and stumbled out of the spare room, I nearly lost my shit. That was it. It was done. It was over. And that was that.  Here we are another failed miserable relationship.

Amber's relationship was falling apart too, and they were parting ways. This is when our distance started to grow. We found ourselves back at square one, both single after spending so many years with someone else. But this was a different kind of single it wasn't the carefree independence of our younger days. We were older now, still trying to find our footing, still not fully established. Amber started spending time with a crowd I wasn't too fond of and didn’t want to be a part of, but it was where she felt she belonged. Over time, that distance grew one year, then two, then three. Every year, I’d text her on her birthday, wishing her well, but there was no response. The third year, I bought my house. The fourth year, another text, and still, nothing. Then, on the fifth year, I got the call in the middle of the night. Amber had been in a terrible accident.

I started to write about the dreadful end of her life but I decided to back out of the last few paragraphs surrounding the details of what led up to the accident and everything that followed, I just can't bring myself to go there. What I can say is that Amber's family, understandably, was very private during this time, locking out Amber’s friends to any information, those of us who loved her deeply, who grew up with her, and who she brought so much joy to. It felt like everyone was left in silence, unsure of what to do or say. Even her ex-ex girlfriend, Kor, organized a fundraiser to help Amber’s family, and that, too, was met with disapproval. It was a difficult, messy situation, and none of us knew how to navigate it.

At the time, the hospital had strict visitation rules only two people were allowed to visit at a time, and those two had to stay the same throughout the duration of the stay. This was during the tail end of COVID, so things were still a little dicey. I called the hospital every day, asking if the visitation restrictions had been lifted, and each time I was told the same thing: no. But one evening, I called, and the nurse informed me that the rules had finally been relaxed. Of course, I rushed to the hospital the very next morning.

When I was escorted to her room, I will never forget what I saw. Her body was in constant motion, her eyes darting around, as if searching for something or someone. I reached for her hand, just as she had reached for mine, and I held on tightly. I couldn't stop sobbing, seeing another friend, someone I had loved and admired for so many years in such a vulnerable state. As I looked at her, I was reminded of the Marilyn Monroe quote tattooed on her arm a tattoo that my brother, sister, and I had all gotten together. I desperately wanted her to see me, to squeeze my hand, but at that moment, she was no longer the person I had known. She was just a vessel.  But I sat there, gently reminding her of all the memories we shared, all the things I loved about her, and how much Mom and Papa loved her too. I couldn’t even count how many times I said "I'm so sorry" to her probably more than I ever told her I loved her.  I said my goodbyes and left a piece of me with her.

That visit certainly caused a bit of a stir. Apparently, the visiting restrictions went back to the strict rules shortly after I left. I guess when love and faith come together, they have a way of making things happen. I was meant to be there, and I was allowed to be there, no matter how frowned upon it may have been. The doors swung open like the gates of heaven, and I was gently ushered into that moment. I’ll always be grateful for that brief, precious time I got to spend with her, like the universe threw me a bone.

Due to the brain damage, the family had to make some uncomfortable decisions.  Amber was gone. 

Kor organized a celebration of life for Amber here in town, and at first, I wasn’t sure if I would go. But my friend Kristin, knowing I needed some support, loaded up my pup Yuki and took us to the event. It was a crowd of unfamiliar faces from the last five years of Amber's life, mixed with some familiar ones from earlier years. I stayed as long as I could, but it was a lot to take in. Amber’s family had their own intimate celebration, where they spread her ashes near the Golden Gate Bridge.

Soon after, photos from that gathering started circulating, and some of the faces in those pictures were really unsettling. It became clear that the crowd had been handpicked by someone who really didn’t know Amber anymore her ex-wife, the same person who had reached out to me asking for details about what had happened. While it wasn’t surprising that she inserted herself into the situation, especially since she and Amber never officially divorced, it was still hard to see her choices for who should be there. It felt as though Amber’s true circle was being overshadowed by people who didn’t truly know her anymore. Then again, maybe I didn’t really know her anymore. Maybe she had changed, become someone different, someone I couldn’t recognize after those last five years. And as much as it hurts, I’ll never truly know. TK did call me beforehand to give me a heads-up about what was happening and to help me prepare for the decision being made. I know TK was trying to soften the blow, and I appreciate that, but it still felt like a heavy hit. It was disappointing, and no amount of preparation could make it easier to accept.  Eventually, I had to learn to accept and move forward.

My biggest regret is that I didn’t reach out enough, I didn’t check in on her. I bought my house and spent so much time just moving through it alone. I had space for her, and I could have done better. I let five years pass by, and while I knew she was out there, I didn’t realize the path she was on would be so much harder than I imagined. I openly admit that I gave up and moved on with my own life. I could have been there more for her. I just accepted the distance, assuming she would come back around, that things would eventually fall into place.  I ASSUMED!  I think I allowed my assumptions to convince me that everything was fine, when in reality, there was something wrong.  I don’t know if I could have saved her but because I didn’t try, I will never know.  That weight will burden me.

When you're forced to sit in silence, you start to hear the things you've been avoiding, the regrets, the words you never said, and the weight of the moments you wish you could go back to.

Amber was one of the kindest people I knew, with a heart as big as her laugh, which was one of the greatest laughs I’ve ever heard. I’ll miss her love for Judge Judy (seriously, she could quote episodes like it was a sport) and her uncanny ability to sing along to anything from rock to country to rap. She had no fear when it came to Karaoke either, getting up there and belting out songs with zero cares in the world. I was always so mesmerized when she’d dance around, and her braids would swing side to side, it was a sight to see.  As we were aging, I started noticing the gray hairs sneaking in. And as I imagined what she’d look like as an older woman, the first person that came to mind was Tracey Chapman. I could picture her rocking the "Fast Car" vibe. In my eyes, they could have been twins.  It’s funny how you can imagine someone aging so beautifully, but then the reality of it hits you, that vision will never happen.

And when she got drunk, she developed this southern drawl. If you asked her about it, she’d confidently say her family was from the South even though she’d never been south of the Mason-Dixon line. She’d sit on the couch for hours, cracking her toes like it was her full-time job. She also had this bizarre talent for falling asleep instantly. You could be in the middle of a conversation, and you’d glance over to find her out cold, like she’d hit the sleep button on herself.

She was quiet and mysterious, but when she spoke, she always had a funny, sharp edge to her. Amber had this undeniable swag about her that everyone noticed, and let’s just say, the ladies loved her. She was smart, easy to like, and always on the go, keeping up with everything and everyone around her.

Amber loved loved her nieces and nephews like nobody’s business.  She did everything she possibly could for them.

 Over the years, not a single day passes that I don’t think about her or miss her. Along with that, there’s a deep sense of guilt that I carry one that weighs heavily on me. Maybe she was lost, but I can’t help but feel that I could have tried harder. She was one of my closest friends, and with over 20 years of memories between us, I know those moments will never fade. They’ll stay with me forever. She will always be my mefrican and my sister. 

I love you Amber, forever.