Your birthday post is early yet again this year.. because the holidays are upon us and I will be working the next 34507223072436 days. Okay, not quite. But it seems like it. So here it is.
Another day, another year, another birthday.
This time last year, I was sitting in my apartment in South Bend, wondering how I was going to get back to Texas and how I would get through it without you. I knew I could do it, but I also knew it wouldn't be easy.
I still feel some guilt thinking about everything that's happened in my life over the last 16 months. I'm back in Texas, trying to figure out who I am and who I want to be. My outlook on the world isn't exactly what it was before you left it. I still love news, but sometimes it's just too painful. So much sadness in the world, and it's my job to face it. Tell it like it is.
So I try to find some good. Some happiness. I try to remind people to go for their goals, even if they seem ridiculous or out of reach. I know, it's cheesy, but I feel like that's part of you working in my heart. I wanted to find the best of you and keep it alive. Your spirit, your fire, your passion. The belief that it's not over until I say it's over, not when someone else tells me it is. That I am worth more than I could ever imagine, even when I don't feel like it.
26. You would've been an old woman. I kid, I kid. I can't help but imagine what you would've done - what we would've done by now. Maybe I would've been to Colorado. I believe there would've been more phone calls, texts, adventures. More reminders that I don't suck, I can do this, and not to be my own worst enemy. (Still working on that.)
And maybe this little bit of wisdom as written by the great Dr. Seuss:
“You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. You're on your own. And you know what you know. And YOU are the one who'll decide where to go...”
When I started writing this, I tried doing the math on how many days, hours, minutes you've been gone. Why, I don't know. It just became too overwhelming.. and we both know I'm terrible at math anyway. Maybe I just wanted to put how much I miss you into some kind of number.
But that's impossible.
A new friend of mine recently put two and two together and realized you're the friend I've lost. I was shocked. I'm still amazed by the impact you've had on people around the world. They know your name, your face, your red hair, your dreams.. and I'm still telling your story. Not necessarily the one in the papers, magazines, and blogs, but the one I know about the girl who tripped on air, loved the Oxford comma, and had a heart of gold.
Jess, in some ways I've been dreading your birthday. It's another reminder you were taken far too soon and that we have to go on without you. Physically, that is. You're still on my phone screensaver, so I see you and think of you every day.
But there have been moments that I am convinced you are by my side. Earth lost a beautiful soul, but Heaven gained one, and I scored one badass guardian angel. I like to think you're there when I have my singalong dance parties in the car, when I find myself crying my eyes out over whatever problem of the moment is at hand, and when I feel scared or worried.
That's pretty much all the time.
I try not to cry because it's over, but smile because it happened. And your favorite Emily-ism: remember that there's a light at the end of the tunnel, but I don't know if it's the sun or a train. So can you do me a solid and stop the train? ;)
Thank you for giving me so many wonderful memories, beautiful friendships with those who loved you as much as I do, and all the little pushes I've felt when I needed them most. I love you dearly, and I always will.
Happy (early) birthday, Jess.
#ily
