Ten years back,
I was falling into my first
bout of depression and unexplained sickness.
You were a good friend,
and you came home from college
and made me talk to you (when I wouldn’t talk to many).
I was so stiff, so tense,
and you sat beside me and gave me a back massage.
And you commented on how dry the skin on my back was,
because I never ever paid attention to myself or my body.
Not at that time.
“You need to take care of yourself, friend.”
You reprimanded me like a concerned mother
because you were often motherly with everyone around you.
“Take care of yourself.”
A few years later,
We were on the phone talking as usual
and you told me you had realized you were attracted to abuse
but you didn’t know why,
and neither of us could see that you were
already living in abuse at the time.
And I told you, “You need to take care of yourself, friend.”
Because I all too well knew the pull towards abuse
and how hard it is to fight the unhealthiness.
I urged you to go to counseling and to face
whatever danger was inside and outside.
“Take care of yourself.”
A few more years passed,
and neither of us had really learned the lesson
that taking care of oneself is vital to a whole life.
And then you were gone,
just like that,
your life snuffed out,
by darkness and abuse.
And I was a mess, and I only became worse
because I missed you so much, my friend.
I fell into the darkest moments of my life,
and I grieved that you had never taken care of yourself.
Because you were always so busy taking care of others
like the beautiful motherly spirit you were.
Oh, why didn’t you take care of yourself?
And just recently,
I made the important decision
to fight my illness once and for all.
I went to a doctor and started taking medication,
and I started eating healthy, drinking water, doing yoga–
listening to my heart, my mind, my body
and truly responding to the pains I felt inside.
And now, every time I put lotion on myself,
I think of your words so long ago,
when you were so concerned about the dryness of my skin.
“You need to take care of yourself, friend.”
You told me that day.
“Take care of yourself.”
I want to weep every time I think of that memory,
because we both failed at taking care of ourselves
for far too long,
but you paid the ultimate price.
And I, I am still living,
but I will take care of myself, now.
I will take of myself, friend.
I will take care of myself
and always remember you
and your loving, motherly words
that will speak healing into my mind forever.
Because taking care of yourself
is one of the most important things we can
do for ourselves, each other, and the world.
Photo by Adobe Stock/Kitja
