Kristi consoled me through e-mails, phone calls and texts. She encouraged me to just go with it. Michelle and Kristi were so much alike. Kristi would walk up to any bald woman and encourage them, just the way Michelle encouraged me.
The first time I met Michelle, she walked right up to me."Hey! I've had that haircut before! I am about to have it again." She was so endearing and fearless. She peered deep into my eyes, knowing what laid before me as if to confirm that yes, I did have what it takes to fight this beast. She found a pen and paper and wrote three things on it:
Michelle Bynum ...her number...
Pink Ribbon Cowgirls
Wonders and Worries
She shared as much information as she could with me. She assured me that it would was perfectly okay if I forgot everything she told me. Most importantly, she shared a hug of hope that seemed to last forever...the same hug that Kristi gave me time and time again.
Kristi was so excited to transition from fighter to survivor on February 1, 2011. We were going to meet Kathryn and the twins for a play date at a jump house. She called Kathryn and I to let us know that Luke and her were not going to be able to make it. Her girlfriends surprised her at home with wine in hand to celebrate the big day. I am pretty sure it was before 11AM...and that is how Kristi rolls!
Kristi, Kathryn and I grew closer and closer through several series of e-mails (Yes, series...as in LONG strands of replies within one subject of an original e-mail), Facebook messages, play dates, Pink Ribbon Cowgirl luncheons, and PRC luncheons that we played hooky on together. In one particular e-mail strand, OMG!, we decided that we would be the Pink Ladies. Kathryn is Sandy, because she has a 'thing' for John Travolta. I wanted to be Frenchy. Kristi just happened to respond last with this:
"So I'm Rizzo? because I'm bawdy, right?? I'm okay with that!! I had a couple of margaritas and then dropped the F Bomb this weekend at a party to the sweetest (and most sober) kindergarten teacher at our school... oops... She may get Luke in a couple of years, so I'm sure his behavior will turn her on to margaritas. Or at the very least, using the F Bomb herself." This was Kristi, honest, matter of fact and funny as Hell! Kristi is my walking, talking Saturday Night Live Skit in the flesh! She always has one liners and stories, oh the stories and the way she told them were hilarious. She often had me crying with laughter!
It is hard to pinpoint the 'best' time I ever had with Kristi. She was always, just real, you know? One particular night, Kathryn, Jonas, Kristi and I went to Graphic 5. For two months preceding the BCRC fundraising extravaganza, Kathryn, Kristi and I toyed with the idea of becoming models for 2012. This would give us ample time to lose jiggly parts, muffin tops and get boobs (me...they still had theirs). Kathryn was the most reserved. (She is Sandy for a reason!) Kristi had two goals: 1. Stay alive. 2. Become a MILF. I loved these goals so much that I took them on as well. This pretty much coincided with becoming a model for Graphic, so it seemed doable.
To say the evening was blastastic is an understatement! Kristi had me in stitches the entire way to Graphic! She wasn't purposefully trying to make me laugh. That was just Kristi, always entertaining, and well 'SNL-y'. Driving with tears welling up in my eyes and running down my face was difficult. We managed to get there in one piece. We walked up to the doors, laughing at each other as we struggled to walk correctly in our "nice" shoes. Both of us were restricted to tennis shoes, or comfy flip flops because of pain, peeling skin, pain, and pain.
Here we are at the beginning of Graphic: Kristi AKA Rizzo, Me AKA Frenchy and Kathryn AKA Sandy
Kathryn and Jonas arrived dressed to the nines with the perfect amount of bling. (You go, Kathryn with your tasteful bling!) We searched for fellow Pink Ribbon Cowgirls who were floor models. Then we gawked at the striking beauty of these women. The bras that were on display each had their own story. Kathryn and Kristi made bids on two super blingy bras, which they ended up getting! We mumbled to each other how flippin' steep the stairway was as we closed in on more food and the BAR upstairs. The food was incredible, but the energy and excitement there was over the top!
Kristi and Kathryn sporting the Art Bras they 'won'.
We were unashamedly celebrating being alive. We were celebrating the lives of those that cancer stole from us. We were celebrating the fierce determination and perseverance of each and every model that WORKED that runway! The announcer shared each sister's story as they came out to strut their stuff. Each individual journey that was shared united us with one another. Although our journeys were different, the themes of devastation, courage, hope and triumph permeated each one.
Our "Fighter" picture taken just moments after we got matching tattoos. Do you see how Kristi literally transforms this picture by pushing up her muscle and kissing it? Hilarious, because that's how she rolls!
As the designated driver, I was responsible for getting Rizzo and I home safely. Who can do that when you have a comedian back seat driver? We searched unsuccessfully for a place to get some grub before heading to Kristi's. She invited me in for a few minutes. We sat at her dining room table until the wee hours of the morning just sharing. A few minutes always turned into extended conversations with Kristi. The simple way she spoke was colorful. You just couldn't help but be entertained, or engrossed, depending on the topic at hand.
She shared the struggles her and Todd shared with infertility, their miscarriages, and the torsion she endured with Lukey. Kristi shared her college experiences, her transition from being a teacher to marketing, her life in Chicago and the reason she felt she came to Texas. At first, she thought it was the fertility clinic, but she passed Texas Oncology each time she went. She truly believed (when she was diagnosed) she came to Texas, so Dr. Hellerstedt would fight with her against this monster called cancer. I walked away that night in utter amazement of the woman who called me friend...her breast friend! Wow! She was optimistic and hopeful in spite of these struggles. She left me hoping to be at least half as encouraging as her.
Oh, my heart aches for her. I miss her so much. To be continued when I can...