To most, I've recovered well, whatever that means. No one close to me would look at me and say that I'm still hurting. I promise you, they're wrong.
Once the shock wore off, the initial blindsiding blow to my tidy world, the hurt simply became different, permanent. Real. It's the difference between acknowledging and FEELING that you're gone. The living of my life, moving forward, with the keen and terrifying awareness that whether or not I wake up tomorrow is not my decision to make. The awareness that everything and everyone I love, on this side of Heaven, is simply mine to borrow. It makes me breathe deeper, laugh harder. It makes me want to see more, do more, BE more. It makes the tiny, seemingly insignicant moments so much sweeter. Conversations with my students about the rain, and how it got its name. Text messages from my mom. The man I love with all my heart absently reaching for my hand in the car, just because he can. I want to memorize it, commit it to memory if God forbid I ever lose it. I wish I'd done that before you left.
Still, without fail, I find you stitched into my life. You'd be surprised how often you appear in the stories I tell, how many memories you made for me. You wouldn't be surprised at how often telling those stories still makes me laugh, though never as hard as I did while we lived them. It stuns me, saddens me, and heals me every time I get to speak your name. God willing, I will live my life better now, for me and for you. I will be a faithful wife to a great man. I will be a mother to cute and well-behaved children, just like we planned. I will turn 27, remembering you didn't, but knowing that where you are, you will forever be young, and always be beautiful.
I'll see you there someday. Keep things interesting until then.
Love you forever,
Jess

Jennifer Starr Malean
December 15, 1984-July 27,2011
No comments:
Post a Comment