Poem 1: “Your Place is Green” copyright 2024
جای تو سبز است ‘Your place is green’ In Farsi, the above quote means the place you should be in is now empty and green because you’re no longer in it. One of my friends has a tattoo with this saying, and this morning when I woke up it all made sense. Rachel, it is so so green in this world in all the places you would have gone, sadly because you’re not in the them. You never got to see or be in all of them. 25 years have now passed. This year I have missed you more than ALL of the others. This past week I had a meltdown where I mourned you with tears for 2-3 hours—the most I’ve cried about you since your funeral in 1999. Why? I don’t know…. But I think I do. I moved and have been very melancholy. I wish I could have called or texted you. Invited you down to my new place. Told you about the lakes and rivers and hiking trails. I also cried those tears from a place of happiness because of all of the things your life and death taught me. Because of all of the rich old and new friendships I have because after you died I made sure to always put people before everything like you strived to do. I’m so so blessed with my current friend group, especially where I moved to. Rachel, You brought people, us, together just by the sound of your laugh. You brought us together the day you left this world. Yet nothing ever can or will fill the void of you. My yellow Roman candle friend who burn, burn, burned (see quote on photo below)—today I will raise a glass or two for you. I will say as I sit around the table overlooking the San Francisco Bay this afternoon ‘here’s to a life well lived. Here’s to inspiring us all to live better, be better, love more, and remember who and what are important in life.’ I booked this trip to see a friend, yes, but to also honor your adventurous spirit that left us 25 years ago today. On my fridge is a quote next to a photo of the one person I know who burned like that Roman candle everyday she was alive-YOU. And your death is one of the major reasons I live my life the way I do, which many don't understand but that's okay. You’re still very present. You always will be. Because it’s difficult to forget someone who actually lives—someone so full of life. Until we meet again, know I’ve become a Roman candle, too, thanks to you. Because it’s the best way to live, the only way to feel alive. So today, I miss my friend. Today, I always wonder why there is such brevity in life. Today, I remember why friendships and time matters so much because we have so little of it. Today, we miss you more than all others, but are also so thankful we knew you even if for just a short time because both your life and your death changed us all. Rach you have become many empty fields of green in this life—an emptiness that we all have never been able to replace. You flew across our skies, lit them up bright, and still you and all you were remains. And someday I’ll see you again in the sky. Until then? I’ll burn bright and full of life like a Roman candle and I’ll keep walking in your empty, green fields. Looking for you, yes, but always feeling your spirit because it’s now inside of us all, especially me.
Poem 2: Non stop
There are, I believe, defining moments in one's life--moments that change a person indefinitely. This is one of those for me, and possibly the most defining moment of my life.
جای تو سبز است ‘Your place is green’ In Farsi, the above quote means the place you should be in is now empty and green because you’re no longer in it. One of my friends has a tattoo with this saying, and this morning when I woke up it all made sense. Rachel, it is so so green in this world in all the places you would have gone, sadly because you’re not in the them. You never got to see or be in all of them. 25 years have now passed. This year I have missed you more than ALL of the others. This past week I had a meltdown where I mourned you with tears for 2-3 hours—the most I’ve cried about you since your funeral in 1999. Why? I don’t know…. But I think I do. I moved and have been very melancholy. I wish I could have called or texted you. Invited you down to my new place. Told you about the lakes and rivers and hiking trails. I also cried those tears from a place of happiness because of all of the things your life and death taught me. Because of all of the rich old and new friendships I have because after you died I made sure to always put people before everything like you strived to do. I’m so so blessed with my current friend group, especially where I moved to. Rachel, You brought people, us, together just by the sound of your laugh. You brought us together the day you left this world. Yet nothing ever can or will fill the void of you. My yellow Roman candle friend who burn, burn, burned (see quote on photo below)—today I will raise a glass or two for you. I will say as I sit around the table overlooking the San Francisco Bay this afternoon ‘here’s to a life well lived. Here’s to inspiring us all to live better, be better, love more, and remember who and what are important in life.’ I booked this trip to see a friend, yes, but to also honor your adventurous spirit that left us 25 years ago today. On my fridge is a quote next to a photo of the one person I know who burned like that Roman candle everyday she was alive-YOU. And your death is one of the major reasons I live my life the way I do, which many don't understand but that's okay. You’re still very present. You always will be. Because it’s difficult to forget someone who actually lives—someone so full of life. Until we meet again, know I’ve become a Roman candle, too, thanks to you. Because it’s the best way to live, the only way to feel alive. So today, I miss my friend. Today, I always wonder why there is such brevity in life. Today, I remember why friendships and time matters so much because we have so little of it. Today, we miss you more than all others, but are also so thankful we knew you even if for just a short time because both your life and your death changed us all. Rach you have become many empty fields of green in this life—an emptiness that we all have never been able to replace. You flew across our skies, lit them up bright, and still you and all you were remains. And someday I’ll see you again in the sky. Until then? I’ll burn bright and full of life like a Roman candle and I’ll keep walking in your empty, green fields. Looking for you, yes, but always feeling your spirit because it’s now inside of us all, especially me.
Poem 2: Non stop
There are, I believe, defining moments in one's life--moments that change a person indefinitely. This is one of those for me, and possibly the most defining moment of my life.
When people ask my why I live my life the way I do, this is the reason.
“Why do you write like you’re running out of time?
Write day and night like you’re running out of time?
Ev’ry day you fight, like you’re running out of time
Keep on fighting
In the meantime
Non-stop"
- Hamilton, the Musical
_________________________________
20 years.
That's how long you've been gone.
I'd like to say I think about you all the time.
I don't, but I think about you often.
I wonder where you would be now at age 39.
Would you have a family, be in a far off land as a missionary, doing the mom thing, coaching?
Or was this your destiny?
To die at 19 and leave a legacy of a contagious laugh,
brown eyes and a smile and dimples that lit up a room, and grit.
So much non-stop energy and grit.
To die at 19 and leave a legacy of a contagious laugh,
brown eyes and a smile and dimples that lit up a room, and grit.
So much non-stop energy and grit.
Was it your destiny to die so that we might live in better ways because of the way you lived?
I don't believe so.
I think it just happened, and then we all were left in the deluge,
trying to make sense of something that will never make sense.
trying to make sense of something that will never make sense.
I’m not convinced everything happens for a reason.
I don’t think anyone is supposed to die so young.
Ever.
Ever.
But you woke up that morning with a dream you'd had that night:
today you'd die in a car accident.
And then you did.
today you'd die in a car accident.
And then you did.
Did you know?
I think about how Coach Williams left a message on my parents’ answering machine telling that you had died,
and I got it after a long day of work.
and I got it after a long day of work.
I think about the drive to the funeral.
The funeral.
All of the people.
A whole gym full.
Silence mixed with the creaking floor, sobs,
and a spectrum of a plethora of every flower you could imagine.
The funeral.
All of the people.
A whole gym full.
Silence mixed with the creaking floor, sobs,
and a spectrum of a plethora of every flower you could imagine.
I think of hugging people I rarely talk to today.
Comforting is such an odd thing at times.
Comforting is such an odd thing at times.
I think of the heat and humidity and more tears and sweating at the graveside.
As if one of those wasn't miserable enough.
As if one of those wasn't miserable enough.
I think of the following school year.
Every part of school from sports to going to church was haunted with memories.
You were my ride to church.
Then, I didn't have one.
Well, I had a car by sophomore year, so I went alone.
We played volleyball and wrote your initials and number on our ribbons.
In basketball, I did the same on my shoes.
The first time I set foot on the basketball court I almost lost it.
You and I were unstoppable on defense.
I’d trap a girl by pushing her to a side like coach would yell out,
and you’d cat and mouse her on the other side for the steal.
Coach had the two of us figured out and fine tuned us down to an art.
He was hard on us.
Very hard on you.
No one could match your hustle, but he believed you had even more in you.
You didn't have more hustle that's for sure, but if you were having an off night mentally, I, too was off.
Not because I wanted to be.
We needed each other's strengths to get the job done well on defense.
I could only turn a girl so many times down the court before she gave up and threw the ball to a teammate.
Every part of school from sports to going to church was haunted with memories.
You were my ride to church.
Then, I didn't have one.
Well, I had a car by sophomore year, so I went alone.
We played volleyball and wrote your initials and number on our ribbons.
In basketball, I did the same on my shoes.
The first time I set foot on the basketball court I almost lost it.
You and I were unstoppable on defense.
I’d trap a girl by pushing her to a side like coach would yell out,
and you’d cat and mouse her on the other side for the steal.
Coach had the two of us figured out and fine tuned us down to an art.
He was hard on us.
Very hard on you.
No one could match your hustle, but he believed you had even more in you.
You didn't have more hustle that's for sure, but if you were having an off night mentally, I, too was off.
Not because I wanted to be.
We needed each other's strengths to get the job done well on defense.
I could only turn a girl so many times down the court before she gave up and threw the ball to a teammate.
You should be here.
These new teammates don't know how to read me on the court like you do.
This shouldn't be this way.
But it is.
There was no way to know.
No way to stop it.
I think about how the last day of school in May, the May before the fateful August,
I forgot some junk in my college dorm room and got a few miles up the road and went back to get it...
that was the last time I saw you and got to say good-bye and see you later.
All because I forgot some things.
I forgot some junk in my college dorm room and got a few miles up the road and went back to get it...
that was the last time I saw you and got to say good-bye and see you later.
All because I forgot some things.
Left some things behind.
I've left behind a lot in the past 20 years.
Then there has been the trying to sort through the why's and how's of life and death.
We all do this, I suppose.
But this:
I’m just one of the hundreds, maybe thousands who are a part of your legacy.
How you lived changed me.
Your early death changed me.
The fact that I loved how you lived changed me.
Hear me out: I never wanted to be you.
You were loud, outgoing, and a horrible driver.
You could be heard a dorm floor away you were so loud.
You used to crawl in the athletic room dryers at school.
I’m good without doing all of those. ;)
You could be heard a dorm floor away you were so loud.
You used to crawl in the athletic room dryers at school.
I’m good without doing all of those. ;)
I only wanted to live as loud as you, and it took your death to realize that.
So, if anyone asks, and people rarely do,
YOU:
You're the reason I live and write and do like I'm running out of time.
You're the reason I'm so so so scared of losing everyone all the time.
You’re the reason I understand the brevity of life.
You're the reason I love bigger than my heart.
There’s not enough time to not want to love and give it away.
You're the reason I value my friendships and relationships more than anything.
You and your death are the reason I'm non-stop.
In memory of Rachel A. Fulsom
September 20, 1979 - August 4, 1999
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| Our basketball team 1998-1999. From L to R: Kayla, Cherie, Coach Williams, Carrie, Kelly, Me, Rachel, Kathleen | . |
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| Rachel's headstone. |
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| Nothing like a selfie with a film camera! Me and Rach, age 18 I believe. I think we took this at Nationals in Florida. |
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