My friend Alice was a lot of fun.
She was outrageous, obnoxious and offensive.
She had an awkward gait, and strutted around in a shabby second-hand leather jacket.
She had dark tousled brown curls, large soulful cornflower blue eyes and an impish smile.
My friend Alice was the daughter of a lord.
When she was 9 she met JFK.
She was engaged to a legendary blues musician.
She was in the original production of tribal love rock musical Hair on Broadway.
My friend Alice lost her mother to car crash when she was 15.
When she was 22, she found her brother dead in his apartment from gunshot wounds, an apparent suicide.
When she was 33, she lost her father to a car crash.
When I met her, she was an alcoholic and heroin addict.
My friend Alice spent many years going in and out of rehab.
We connected at a time in our lives when we were lost.
I was searching for something more, she was searching for an escape from her pain and loss.
One day I received a phone call from the local hospital.
My friend Alice had been beaten up by a group of drunks on the street.
I braced myself when I went see her in hospital with another friend, Ant.
Alice looked up at us from her hospital bed, smiling her impish smile.
This time her face was swollen with 2 black eyes, her body bruised and battered.
She made jokes while we visited.
I put on a brave face
But I felt afraid for her.
A few weeks later I received another call.
My friend Alice had been found dead in a bedsit a few days before she turned 43.
I travelled to the border of England and Wales to attend her funeral, which was held in a chapel near her family home.
It was a sobering experience.
My friend Alice came from privilege but ended up in poverty, practically homeless.
She was so lost she didn’t even know how lost she was.
She taught me that no matter how privileged, exciting, and impressive your life, this does not guarantee you happiness or peace.
Her legacy to me was not to judge another person by their appearance because until you have walked a mile in another person’s shoes, you do not know what their life is about.
My friend Alice is at peace now, in a much better place. I believe.
She was humble, kind and funny,
And although her end was tragic, she touched many people with her capacity for life, laughter and love.
I’ll always remember her awkward gait, shabby second hand leather jacket, impish smile and large soulfull cornflower blue eyes.
Wow – Alice
That takes me back to a whole other time. I didn´t know her the way that you did of course, but I still have memories of her that I was recently reminded of by seeing a documentary about said musician and his situation when he met her.
My memories of her were of someone so physically fragile, like a deer and I must admit there was something about her that unnerved me on first meeting. Her rawness felt like something so deep that she was almost like someone between two worlds and was unapologetic for it – she wasn´t going to play the game of pretending the world was a place she didn´t think it was. She came up to me after group once and said she really identified with me in what I´d been saying and I can´t remember even about what, but she looked at me in that way that people do when, you can´t hide from them – they´ve got your number.
The last time I saw her was on the Crescent, coming out of the phone box and she was covered in bruises. I think the sight of her like that made me dismiss with all small talk and I just said “Alice – what are you doing? meaning:
“Don´t you care about your life any more?”
She smiled, looked me right in the eye and shrugged her shoulders.
I don´t remember saying anything else in particular and I remember wanting to hug her but can´t remember whether I did or not, or whether I just wanted to.
I felt helpless.
A few days later she was found.
I also have memories of you scouring Portobello Market for cornflowers to take to her funeral, before taking that long, horrendous train journey to Wales.
I´m sure however painful the last part of her life was for her, knowing you was a blessing in her life as it has always been in mine, and I hope that now she is at peace, free safe and happy .
Thanks Fi. That brought tears to my eyes, Such heartfelt words.
I remember her piercing gaze. She embodied her dysfunction so absolutely, I think that’s why she could look right into the deepest reaches of your shadow self- not a comfortable place for most of us.
Good on you for asking her what she was doing, at least you tried. I guess the lesson is that none of us could stop her self destruct. By the time we knew her, all her family/loved ones had given up. When I went to research her story before I wrote this, I was reminded again of how much tragedy she suffered and I thought, wow what chance did she have?
She loved cornflowers, now I think maybe because it was the colour of her eyes. Thanks for reminding me of the flowers I bought for her funeral, I had forgotten.
I loved how outrageous and unabashed Alice was. I loved that honesty she had. We had a lot of fun together, that is what I remember most actually, the rest, the bad stuff, somehow faded. I can always see her smiling when I think of her, so I have a suspicion that she is just fine where she is now.
Much Love Fi.