Norah Is

I can’t talk about Norah in the past tense, even though she has been gone for a week now. I can’t think of her as having existed because she exists so largely in my mind and heart and soul. She is there, just as she always was, so how can I refer to her as a “was?”

Norah’s body died. I can’t see her anymore. I can’t greet her on the beach as she sidles up to Fit Camp. I can’t high five her sweaty palms after a long workout. I can’t feel her kiss on my cheek when she greets me with a smile and her typical “hey, sweetie.”

But just now, in so writing those words, she is alive on the beach for a moment. My heart is full of Norah. My heart can feel the sweaty slap of her palm. The familiar sense of safety and comfort flood my being when she kisses my cheek. All of that happened in my physical body now, in the space of two minutes as I typed what my mind saw.

So Norah is right here. Norah is dancing. Norah is laughing. Norah is slam-balling. Norah is jumping jacking. Norah is holding plank. Norah is handing a pan-handler some socks and smiling while she adds a sandwich to it. Norah is cheerfully encouraging me to hang in there. Norah is generously lending me party supplies. Norah is unabashedly trying to get her team to guess a dirty word in charades. Norah is crying with joyful tears at my wedding. Norah is enthusiastically cheering me on at mile 11 of the Miami Marathon.

Norah has worked out with us for three years on the beach. She has immersed in workouts with us, happy hours, dinners, parties, concerts, plays, game nights and outreach events. She knows us, loves on us, supports us, asks how we are, keeps up with our lives and invests her kindness. She helps us grow Fit Camp by inviting her friends, encourages us when we get tired and shows up on the rainy days, hot days and cold days. She is a pillar. She is ours.

I’m not cancelling her membership. I’m checking her into every class. We named a workout move after her and we will spend time Norahing every single class. I will picture her as I start class, I will bring her energy to the sand. I will see her big smile and feel the joy that she couldn’t help but spread. I will look people in the eyes and give them some Norah. I will channel the joy she wants me to offer, that she is no longer present to give. I will be as Norah as I can be. With her. Next to her. Because she is not gone. She is right here.

Norah is.