Happy Birthday Thuy

I miss my friend.

My son misses his Godmother, but he avoids conversations about it. Today, on her birthday, I asked him what we should do to celebrate and he walked away; the sadness is too big and he’d rather not think about it. As a parent and grief support specialist, I am trying to hold a balance between acknowledging the loss and rubbing his nose in it. Whatever the answer, I know that it can’t be an absence of her in our lives.

I have decided that the best way for me to approach his hesitancy is to keep it simple. We don’t need heavy conversation, that may come on it’s own someday; rather we just need to keep her around in every-day ways. I want him to learn through my actions that people who have died are still important, we still love them, and although they are gone from our 5 senses, they can still be present for us.

I keep an Ancestor alter (we could all use one) and she has her own space off to the side. A photo, a plant, a card she once sent, an electronic candle (because fire and cats…) and space for flowers and the occasional cocktail.

When I see it every day, I know she is still a part of our family. I am reminded of all the things I loved about her time on earth; Thuy had a taste for quality - food, drink, clothing, spaces and people. She didn’t just want the best for herself though, she wanted the best for you. She was definitely the one that would go without if it meant giving you something special.

She knew how to live the good life and how to pass it on. That seems rare. There are plenty of people in this world with the wherewithal to do better that choose not to, or who donate stuff as a performative gesture. I have heard that money is the lowest form of energy exchange - it wasn’t about how much money she received or spent, her energy exchange was always high because it came from a space of pure generosity. Whether it was a thoughtful gift, skate shop merch or the best baby shower ever, Thuy was generous. It was heartwarming to see this energy returned back to her through her community.

Today, on her first Birthday after death, I want people to know her.

I want you to be the recipient of her generosity, but also maybe one of her talking-tos because, as another friend reminisced, “don’t get it twisted” - she had no tolerance for bullshit.

I am not going to tell her whole store here; there is stuff about her on the internet if you are curious. You can find her, just like you can find most of us these days. What comes up when you search for her is the work she did with children after co-creating the San Francisco Skate Club, and the difference she made in that city. Her magnificence was not underestimated, and she made a name for herself - it makes us proud.

As she was dying I thought to myself, if our lives were a novel that followed our group of friends from college to adulthood, she is the one that would have died in the end. It’s always the best one, the one that is the easiest to root for. A part of me feels guilty for thinking this, but I also know a classic story arc. She was the best of us (I am sorry, friends, but we all know it is true!) and I am annoyed that in this case, life imitated art.

I wish I could be with her husband and our friends today at the planned gathering at Ocean Beach, one of my favorite places to visit. If it was the most important thing for me to have been there, I would. She deserves my time even now. Instead I took the suggested option two; I have answered the question WWTD? (What would Thuy Do) and am doing that in service of others here at home.

My son will know the answer of WWTD? and we will continue to ask that question to ourselves as our lives go on. We will continue to grieve, but thrive in the midst of it. While I know she would have preferred to have had more time showing us what she was capable of, she would have also wanted us to thrive in her absence.

Today I asked for her help in writing this. It is time for my voice to join the others who are ready talk about grief openly. We are getting the conversation started so that when you are ready, you know it’s safe to vocalize your loss, human or otherwise.

Thuy was my biggest loss of 2020, but there were others and God knows there is more loss to come. But today - on this magical Lion’s Gate Portal of 8/8, in the reality I am currently in, I can’t think of anything I would rather be doing than sitting with the sadness of a life cut short, celebrating all the wonderful things Thuy was, and answering the call of WWTD.

I love you Thuy.

I miss your smile. I miss your voice, although I can still hear you in my head sometimes. I miss our shopping trips to Jeremy’s as kids and I miss you telling me where to eat in the city. I miss your beautiful long hair, and the way your life was joyful. Because of you I will remember to keep joy always at the heart of what I do. Writing brings me joy, and I am forever grateful for your encouragement.