Some things change, others stay the same.

A lot about my life has changed drastically in two years.

I have moved across the country, changed jobs, gotten a new car, made the switch from Apple to Android, dated a guy or two, and tried to fill the void left behind by the loss of my best friend.

As I sit here writing at 4am, I can't help but think about the late night phone calls and texts that seemed endless, even though we lived in different time zones. Any time, day or night, I could count on a text about Jess' day or a quick "hello" and "I miss you."

It was a late night moment that changed my life forever when she was killed in that movie theater. To this day, I can pretty much count on one hand the number of times I've been to the movies since then. It's sad; movies were almost a weekly outing when I was in college. Now, I can't help but feel uneasy walking into a theater. I've made myself go anyway, but it's not the same.

So now I find other things to do. And I find new ways to distract myself when I know it's too much to think about. This weekend, I am taking off work and staying out of the house so I can remind myself it's a beautiful July day in Dallas and I should be thankful I am alive and living my life, just like she would want me to do. 

But the thought will still be there. In the back of my mind, I will still remember where I was July 20, 2012; crying in my room in South Bend, wondering why she had to go through yet another shooting.. and why this time she wasn't as lucky. Wondering why someone would feel a need to walk into a movie theater and open fire, killing people he'd never met. Telling everyone I would be okay, even when I didn't feel like myself and wasn't sure what I would do next.

I thought she would always be around. We had all of these random plans - trips to Canada, Turks and Caicos, Vegas.. places she loved and wanted to share. We were going to show the world who we were and what we could do; prove that we weren't just little Texas girls with big dreams and zero talent. Now I'm going it alone.

I've lost people in my life before, but this was different. This was so violent and public; so shocking and terrifying. And the people I'd said goodbye to before were important, but they weren't my best friend.

Her death felt like I had the rug pulled out from underneath me. Suddenly I realized nothing is guaranteed.. and the person who knew more about me than 99.9% of the world was gone. Few understand everything about me - my frustrations, my tears, my awkwardness, my jokes, and my personality - but Jessi got it. And I got her.

She still reminds me she's here now and again. I've smelled her perfume out of nowhere, heard songs we shared when I needed them most, and felt that breeze that could pass for a hug. I've seen things that shouldn't make me laugh, but I know we would both crack up over them.. and an eerie calm when I'm in the middle of a breakdown over the problem of the moment.

I'm not sure how two years have really passed; in some ways, it feels like yesterday. In others, it feels like an eternity. Every birthday, every accomplishment, every minor celebration makes me feel like I'm leaving her behind. And I feel guilty for that. Some say I'm really just taking her along with me.

I will never be who I was on July 19, 2012 again. Some things have changed, but part of that Emily has come back. She's a little tougher, a little more compassionate, and a little more jaded. But I can't help but think of the line from "Wicked"... "because I knew you, I have been changed for good."

Two years later, I still call Jess my best friend. That is one thing that will never change.

Should you feel so inclined, please donate to the Jessica Redfield Ghawi Foundation.

#ily

The new normal.

I live to write and write to live, so sometimes I just have to get everything out of my head and out onto a screen/piece of paper.

My heart is broken, because once again, more families have been forced into the club I was thrown into almost two years ago. It's a group no one wants to be a part of, yet it grows every day.

Another shooting at Fort Hood. I remember the 2009 shooting, because my sorority big sister and her husband were stationed there and I was terrified they might be affected. It was horrifying having to be the one to break the news to her after learning she was safe off post and had no idea what happened. Thankfully, her husband was okay.

Five years later, I've lost someone I love in a mass shooting that made national headlines. I know what it's like to have a piece of your life destroyed and the damage echoed all over TV in the microscope that is the media. And I'm also a part of the media.

Every time I hear "active shooter", I feel sick. I'm thrown back to July 20, 2012 and the pain that has become a regular part of my life since. The feeling of loss, grief, and anger is all too familiar. Working in news just makes it harder, because you can't look away.

On top of that, it hurts to think of a shooting on a military installation. I'm a military brat who spent the first ten years of life on several bases around the U.S. and loved living on them. I always felt safe. When my dad left the military and we moved offbase/back to Texas, it was a bit of a culture shock to live without SPs and security gates.

I feel for all of the families involved in today's tragedy, but the ones I really want to hug are the kids. The children and teens who live on post, who didn't know if their parents were okay.. I want to hug them. I can't imagine how frightening it must be, especially for those who may be aware of the 2009 shooting. I hope they find some peace and security.

I'm also praying; not just for Fort Hood, but for our country. This has to stop. It's ridiculous, senseless, devastating, and just wrong. I can't say I have all the answers to solve the problem, but obviously we're not doing something right.

I would never wish what I've been through on anyone, but with the way things are going, more people are going to understand that heartbreak. This shouldn't be normal, and yet it almost is.

Happy 26th birthday, Jess

My dearest, darling, dorky redhead:

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

Not just another day on the calendar.

June 10. February 21. December 14. May 9. July 20. 

We all have those dates - anniversaries - that linger in our thoughts, tied to some memory, good or bad. 

I'd also have to include September 11, 2011... and of course, September 11, 2001.

The pictures and memories of 9-11 have already started to pop up on Facebook and Twitter, as we all remember the day that knocked America on its back. 

We were a broken and bleeding country then; in some ways, we still are. I was 13, an eighth-grader sitting in math class when I heard the news. 20 minutes later, I watched one of the towers fall on live television. 

That was a defining moment in my childhood. I witnessed part of an attack on the country I love dearly, knowing that hundreds, thousands of people died in the rubble. I was far away, but I could see that block of NYC clearly from my visit just a few years earlier. Just thinking about seeing it in person before and after breaks my heart.

Ten years later, I was a 23-year-old college graduate, trying to make it in the TV business. My best friend had come to visit me for a big football game, and I was determined not to focus on the anniversary. 

We were crazy; driving several hours for the game, tailgating most of the day, and then I drove all night to be up for work the next morning. I had to drop her off at the Detroit airport first.. early on the morning of September 11, 2011.

This exact moment two years ago, I was sitting in an Ann Arbor apartment, figuring out the best way to the airport. Then we stopped for pizza at an all-night place, and headed to the drop-off by 4am. I remember telling Jessica to be careful. God forbid some crazy person try something stupid on such a major anniversary. It was almost eerie letting her go.

I didn't know at the time that it would be the last time I saw her.

My heart feels heavier just thinking about it. A haunting feeling of not wanting her to go, and now realizing there was more than one reason why. 

September 11 will never be just another day on the calendar. It will always mark a day my generation lost part of its innocence, and my last hug from my best friend. 

Not "goodbye", just "see you soon".

It's been a full year, and I still struggle to say "my best friend was killed in Aurora."

Seven words with a lot of power. They hang over my head some days, especially when I want to laugh with Jess about something, or just call and cry about the really bad day I've had. Instead, I find myself sitting in my car talking out loud as if she's right next to me and can hear every word I'm saying.

Because I'm convinced Jessica Redfield Ghawi can hear every single word I'm saying... and usually has something to say back.

Right now, I'm sitting in the exact same spot I was one year ago today, when my world was turned upside down.

I woke up to several messages of condolences, and had no idea what they were talking about until I got to one: "I can't believe Jessica was in the theater shooting." I swallowed the scream building in my throat and rushed to get online to see if it was true.

I fell apart, right here on my bed. Just plain lost it, sobbing. The memory is still fresh; I've relived it several mornings since. The feeling in my chest is not one that I imagine will go away anytime soon. Then I have to think about the good times... when my heart was not broken, but full because I knew no matter what ridiculous thing I did, I had Jessica to turn to for a laugh or a shoulder when I needed it.

Like the time she passed out on my couch and insisted it ate her phone charger. I still don't know where that cord is, but she was convinced it was in my apartment. I've moved, and still haven't seen it.

Or laughed at me for reading the 50 Shades of Grey series. And then admitted she'd read them too. We finally agreed we really just wanted to know what the hype was about. (Here's where y'all start laughing, I'm sure.)

When she texted me to say she had Julio's chips in her suitcase and was headed back to Colorado. I asked why she couldn't just bring them to South Bend first, but she told me to get my own. Rude.

One of my favorite memories is our trip to a liquor store in Ann Arbor. We walked in, cowboy boots on, asked to "borrow" several bottles of minis, then stuffed them in our boots and walked around to see if we were comfortable. The guys in the store stopped and watched as we debated over certain bottles and who would walk with what, then proceeded to buy everything we "borrowed".

Here's the outcome of that charade:

The last time I saw Jessica face to face was early the next morning: September 11, 2011. I dropped her off at the Detroit airport after the Michigan-Notre Dame game. It was about 4am, and I had to drive back to South Bend for work. She grabbed her stuff, hugged me, and reminded me we needed to plan my Denver trip.

The one I wanted to take last October, after Frontier Airlines launched a non-stop flight between South Bend and Denver. Of course, Aurora happened in July, I never made it to Denver, and earlier this week, Frontier announced it will end its nonstop SBN-DIA flight this September. It kind of stung to hear the news; just something else I was supposed to do that I won't in the wake of her death.

So today, I'm asking you to do two things. Not a lot of effort required, but both can have a lot of impact. First, take a picture of yourself wearing a fake/finger/real mustache and send it to @Mustaches4Jessi or share it on our Facebook page:
https://www.facebook.com/MustachesForJessi

I launched the project to celebrate her 25th birthday, but I would love the smiles today. I think all of us on #teamjessi would.

And there are many of us hurting. To Sandy & Lonnie, Jordan, Jay, Brent, Bridget, Linda, Peter & Lauren, Nate, Jennifer & Mike, Tony, Christian, Danielle, Ashley, Jessica, Leslie, Darrel, Larry, and anyone else I may not have named: you have become my second family through all of this. Some I know better than others, but it's our love for Jess that brings us closer and helps get me through some of the really, really hard times... and even helps create some great memories. Thank you for everything you've done for me.

My last small request: call your best friend and tell him/her you love them. Because as my beautiful, crazy, redheaded best friend wrote just days before her death:

"I was reminded that we don’t know when or where our time on Earth will end. When or where we will breathe our last breath. For one man, it was in the middle of a busy food court on a Saturday evening.

I say all the time that every moment we have to live our life is a blessing. So often I have found myself taking it for granted. Every hug from a family member. Every laugh we share with friends. Even the times of solitude are all blessings. Every second of every day is a gift. After Saturday evening, I know I truly understand how blessed I am for each second I am given."

As much as I miss her, I can't hug her. But I tell her I love her all the time, because I've never said "goodbye", just "see you soon"... whenever that is. #ily

Bridal shops, balconies, and big changes.

Here we go... first blog post of 2013.

And it's almost May. Oops.

I am a terrible blogger; it's a proven fact. But last summer, this blog became just the outlet I needed. A place to express myself, my feelings, my thoughts... and my sometimes bleeding heart.

It's been a long road since July 20, 2012. I've tried to travel it in running shoes, but even I can trip and fall in those. Some days are easy, some are so painful I'd think I'd gone back in time.

One of my best friends from college is getting married this summer. I'm in the wedding, which of course means I have to wear a special dress. I am a) a procrastinator and b) hate dress shopping because I always feel like the ugliest girl in the store.

Unfortunately, I waited until the last second and finally went to the bridal shop this week. I had the dress I wanted in mind, knew what color I wanted, and thought it would be simple. One problem. (Well, the first of several)

I hadn't set foot in this shop since July 20, 2012.

It sounds weird, I know. That happened to be the day my friend Sarah was going wedding dress shopping. I had called out of work (for obvious reasons), and another friend suggested I tag along on the dress search to get my mind off things.

It was okay - I definitely would've enjoyed it more any other day. I had recently said that I thought Jessica would be in my wedding (if by some amazing chance I do get married one day), so I kept thinking of what we'd lost instead of losing myself in the moment for Sarah.

I did a lot of crying in front of that shop that day. I sat in the parking lot and did a phone interview with a reporter from the San Antonio newspaper, I answered a few calls and messages from friends checking on me, and I broke down with my dad on the phone, who had just heard the news after getting off a plane from a business trip.

I didn't tell Sarah what had happened because I didn't want to ruin her day, but I finally just had to excuse myself because I knew I wasn't being fair to her or myself. I still feel bad about that.

Sarah, I'm sorry if I put a serious damper on what should have been an exciting day for you. (If it helps, I am really looking forward to watching you walk down the aisle in the dress you chose later this year.)

Fast forward to this week. I went back inside that shop, braved the brides and prom crowd, as well as my own fears of shopping to find a dress.

Of course, the dress I chose wasn't available in my color or size in time for Maegan's wedding.. and the only ones available were pretty much everything that I had hoped to avoid. I compromised, and picked one out that I have been promised will be in before I have to leave for Texas (barely).

After gulping over the price (which was higher than the dress I went in to buy), I walked out and peeked over at the spot where I'd cried to my dad.

It was strange. Somehow, I felt transported back to that moment... and in another way it seemed like another lifetime.

Just another first of many along the road I've taken since losing Jess.

My best friend Christopher (who is essentially Jess' male counterpart in my life) is convinced we're going to the Big House for the Michigan-Notre Dame game this fall. I haven't been to Ann Arbor since the last ND game there... with one Miss Jessica Redfield/Ghawi.

I keep trying to convince him that it's okay to go without me. I have no idea how I will react walking into that stadium, but part of me says I have to go. I've never been inside without her. And I know if I go she will be there, just in a different way.

So as I sit here, enjoying a cool spring evening on my balcony with a glass of wine and my laptop, I look around at the bright blue sky... listen to the wind chimes and the barking dogs in the distance... and think about how maybe she's just been right here with me all along.

Hope you enjoyed the ramblings - there's always more where that came from.

Happy Birthday, Jessi

To my dearest, darling, crazy redheaded best friend -

Your 25th birthday has finally arrived - HAPPY BIRTHDAY. I know, it's only 10:51pm Eastern the day before, but I think I can slide being just an hour early since you were born in Michigan. (And by the time I get through this, it will likely be nearly midnight.)

How is it that we've finally reached this milestone? 

I've looked forward to and dreaded this day for months. I still remember last November when you were home for Thanksgiving and begged me to come home so I could go roller skating with you. Unfortunately, I had to stay in South Bend and work. I wish I could've flown home.. even just to skate (and fall) with you for an hour or two.

Jess, I've tried so hard to be strong over the last few months. Sometimes I'm just not sure how a 24-year-old is supposed to handle something like this. So tell me, "Mom", you're the older one in this relationship - how am I supposed to get through losing my best friend? 

There are days when I feel like I can take on the world.. and others where all I want to do is curl up and cry because I can't call you. Overall, it's getting easier, but I still feel like I have no idea what I'm doing. No one understands my breakdowns and ridiculous moments quite like you.

This was supposed to be our year. The year where we stood up and ran things like we owned them - showed the world that we are as good as we think we are. The year that we start to really earn -- and get everything we wanted. We worked so hard to get to this point. And now I'm trying to keep going, because I know I have to do it. 

I've busted my backside to prove I can do the job I have. Some days I feel amazing, and then there are others where I'm pretty sure I fall flat on my face. 

But I did it, Jess - I won my first Emmy. I called my parents from the ceremony and as soon as I hung up, I called your mom and proceeded to cry over the phone. It was like sharing the moment with you. She was so proud; she reminded me you're proud of me too. That meant the world to me.

I launched this pretty cool project for your birthday. I just wanted to celebrate the beautiful gift that you were to the world - because you are far more than what happened in the moment that you left it. And it's turned out pretty well so far.. even Michelle Beadle took a picture for you! You have J.C. to thank for that, not me - but it doesn't mean I'm any less excited over the addition.

As the clock ticks down to your actual birthday, I can't help but wonder what we would've been doing right now. Would I have come to Denver to see you? Or would we be laughing over something silly on the phone? Or talking about how ridiculous this NHL lockout nonsense and how you're distraught over Notre Dame being number one? (By the way, I still have not worn any Irish gear, thank you)

Things are changing.. I've learned to dance to "Chelsea Dagger" again. I've gone back to the movies twice. I've taken on my one-hour show at work (even though it's proving to be a challenge). I don't have to cry every time I see your picture.

That doesn't mean I don't feel the pain. I still spend time looking through our photos. I listen to the videos of you on my phone just so I can hear your voice one more time. I can spend hours reading your texts, just so I can laugh and see where you said "I love you."

It's been a whole half hour since I started this and I've laughed, I've cried.. sounds like a typical conversation with you. I miss those. I know I'll get to have them again, but it's not time yet. 

Thanks for surrounding yourself with such amazing people while you were here. I feel like you left me a bunch of presents - one named Bridget, one named Linda, another named Danielle.. and the list goes on. They've all been there for me at one time or another.. and I can only hope I've been able to do the same for them.

I know I can't hug you or talk to you face to face, but I know you're here with me in some special way. Sometimes I feel like you're in my car, or standing by me when I get ready in the morning.. or sitting next to me right now on my bed while I write this.

I love you so much. There is so much in my life that I couldn't have done without you - and so much more that I will need you to give me that little push. Thank you for being my best friend and now my guardian angel. Enjoy that big hockey rink in the sky -- and save me a seat in the press box, will you?

Who cares if it's only 11:25pm? Congrats, you get an extra 35 minutes to celebrate on me. Don't say I never gave you anything.

Happy birthday, Jess.

#ily