This morning as I write this post, my eyes are dry. But that’s not how it’s been all weekend. Friday evening I received horrible news.
While at work and in between heads of hair, I checked my messages and voice mail. One of those messages was from one of my co-critiquers from my writing group.
I waited to return the call when I got on the road. The moon hung in the night sky bright and full. People drove a bit crazy on the way home, riding tail lights and weaving in and out of traffic. I had no clue my life would change after I pressed the number on my phone.
Ms. H answered the phone, “Shelly.”
“Yes,” I said.
“Kaye died.”
“Kaye?” The only Kay I knew was my dear friend and editor. She’s had my MS since the middle of last month.
“Yes. Kaye.”
“You mean, our Kaye. Kaye Coppersmith?'” Tears welled up in my eyes while someone passed and maneuvered their big car in front of mine.
“Yes,” she said. “She passed on Thursday.”
My heart hit the bottom of my stomach. The last I saw my Kaye was Monday. Her concerns were with my own health issues. That’s what we discussed. Little did I know, she’d be the one departing the earth in a couple days.
Right now, I’m feeling lost. I’m not one to get too close to people. It takes me a long time to really warm up to anyone. If anything most people would say I’m pretty aloof and keep people at an arm’s length. Trust is a big thing with me, and I trusted her. She wasn’t just my editor. She was my friend, and I loved her dearly. No one will ever be able to replace her. She was a quality friend. A quality editor.
Whenever I’ve doubted myself, she believed in me. She was famous for the word ‘Ack!’ when I used the wrong tag. She loved canned peaches and crumb buns. She carried her loose change in a prescription bottle. She kept a journal of favorite lines from books she read. She was quirky and unique. Oh my God, I miss her already.
Who’s going to be my Kaye-quality friend and editor now? How am I going to get my edits complete without her?
Right now everyone, I’m a mess. I’m hoping some how she’s still here as an angel and that she’ll whisper what I’m doing right and wrong.
