5 years

Monday, March 12 will be 5 years since Jennifer died. It still seems like yesterday.

I had to actually remind myself this year of the date. Typically, I take that day off work but I just sit around and mope all day so this year, I decided that I would try to work. This year will be hard. Monday is when she actually passed away. I guess I've tried not to dwell on it as much, which means maybe I'm slowly moving on. But I can still remember that night very clearly.

I had covered a Spring Hope board meeting and had gotten home late that night. It wasn't long after I received the phone call. I remember the night like it was yesterday, not 5 years ago. And each time I remember it, my heart aches. I remember the feeling and though I don't remember how I got there, I remember being with her family that night and staying until the early hours the next morning. Again, I don't remember how I got there, but I found myself at work bright and early the next morning. It was Tuesday and I had to get a newspaper out. Allen sat with me at my desk the whole time, holding me when I needed it and leaving me alone when I needed that too. I would cry for a few minutes and then work on a page. My boss was in the hospital and it was my first time putting out the paper by myself so I had to be there. I got it done but I don't know how.

It's been five years yet I still feel this tremendous sense of loss. I lost my best friend in the whole world and in a sense, she was my only friend. I don't expect to ever fill that void though I have reached out and tried to make some new friends. That kind of thing never came easy to me. For Jennifer, though, it did. She could make a friend just standing in line at the grocery store. That used to irritate me at times, like when we had to run in somewhere quick and decided to start up a conversation with a pure stranger. Now, that's one of the things I miss most about her.

I keep hearing time will make the pain go away and though the pain isn't as strong, it's still there. I still cry when I talk about it. I'm crying as I right this column, wondering if that part will ever go away?

What makes this year even harder is that her husband and his new wife just had a baby. I've mentioned in previous blogs that I hate her husband. I'll never be able to look at him again without feeling disgust. His actions after her death disappointed me. But getting over that whole thing is something I've had to do for myself. Now, I just dislike him and I doubt we'll ever speak again. Her other friends and even her family continue to talk to him and have a relationship with him but not me. I will not do it, not now and not ever. That may make me a bad person but I don't care. I've done as much as I could as far as forgiving him is concerned. And while I won't go as far to say I'm happy for him and his wife on the birth of their new baby, I will say that I'm happy he didn't spend his years like I have, mourning and crying constantly over the loss. But I will add that I expected him to at least take a few weeks to cry over his dead wife. I think she at least deserved that.

Jennifer was a special person. I know that God took her for a reason. I don't know nor understand the reason but maybe one day, God will enlighten me.

If things were different and Jennifer were here, I imagine us getting together for cookouts, just like we did before she died. I imagine our kids playing with each other. I imagine us sharing in our frustrations over fixing our houses up. We both had older, fixer uppers and were trying to fix them up. I imagine Jennifer would have eventually got me on a horse, despite the fact I am terrified of them. I imagine my marriage would have been different, better, because that pain of losing her wouldn't have pushed me away from my husband. I imagine I would have been able to turn to her when I had doubts about my marriage and would still be able to turn to her today, as I continue to fight to make things work. She used to tell me that I was a strong person because to her, I had been through a lot and always persevered. There have been many times in my life since she died that I've needed to hear those words again. I need to hear them now.

I imagine Monday will be a hard day. Not even the hectic stuff at work will prevent me from remembering. But I know I'll get through the day and get own with the rest of my week. I know that's what Jennifer would want me to do.