sybil's birthday

I went to see Sybil in the hospital today. She is intubated (sp?) as she was having trouble breathing on her own starting last night. The docs aren't sure why, but her lungs are filling up with water. They said she has an infection, as well, but that seems to be under control. The next 24 hours will be crucial, however. They say if she does not improve by then, this could be it - IT. To hear this news on her 32nd birthday just doesn't make sense. To have known the light within her, the joy of life she radiated with her warm eyes and contagious laugh, the wisdom she shared through her online journal and poetry writing - to think of this no longer existing is difficult, nearly impossible for me to comprehend.

I sat with her mother for two hours this afternoon who went from smiling sadly to crying while sharing stories about Sybil as well as some humorous stories of her hangovers in the past. Sybil recently taught her how to knit, which she has feverishly taken up as a hobby in the past three months of this rollercoaster ride. She gave me a scarf tonight, a beautiful scarf with reds, pinks, purples and knotted materials. She was worried I wouldn't wear it because it isn't black, but I assured her I most definitely would because I need a little color splash from time to time. I've never heard Ginny speak in a foul manner about anything, but this afternoon in her thick Puerto Rican accent she repeated, "This is a fucking bummer - a fucking bummer." I just nodded in agreement, fighting back my emotions.

Sybil, I wish I could wish you a happy birthday.