8 Weeks Today

In the last post, I (Laura) mentioned that I attended my first birth as a doula/music therapist. The very next day, my best friend died.

Jenny texted me a selfie, back before selfies were a thing. Back when cell phone pictures were new and exciting, when cell phone cameras weren't as good as the average stand-alone camera.

I wanted to mention her passing in the last post, as it's the biggest news of my life. But it didn't seem appropriate to lump that in with all the regular stuff going on. It also seems disrespectful to not mention her at all, so Jenny gets her own blog post. I thought about posting this the day after the last post, but I was too sad at the time to do any editing.

What a love.

Jenny and I have been best friends since we were 8 years old, when we met in 3rd grade. About a year and half after we met, my family moved across the street from Jenny's house! It was very exciting. My parents, and her parents, still live on that same street. 

I have 4 brothers, and 3 of them have awesome wives. Troy has 2 awesome sisters. But sisters-in-law are not the same as sisters (as fantastic as my sisters-in-law are in their own right). Jenny is the closest I've ever had to a sister. We grew up together, and I have no idea who I would be today if I had never met her. We were supposed to continue to grow up together, and I don't have a clue as to how life is going to be without her from now on.

High School Europe trip - here we are, somewhere in Europe together.

 Us again - in France, on a boat.

In my parent's kitchen.

In my parent's front room.

In Jenny's parent's front room.

When Troy and I got married.

Such a beauty.

Today (Monday, July 21, 2014) marks eight weeks since her passing. Each Monday is another reminder that she's physically gone. I know her spirit still exists. I know we're still sisters. I know she still loves me, her family, and all her other friends. I know we'll see each other again, in another life.... But her absence hurts so much.

I found this last weekend, cleaning out the computer desk. I started writing/drawing an epic letter to Jenny back in 2007, but the pad of paper got misplaced during my many moves. I found it again in 2012, and added some more notes/drawings on two different occasions, always with the intention to fill up the entire pad of paper and mail it to her. I found this pad of paper last weekend, and realized I had no one to send it to anymore. 

(How I felt when I realized I had no one to send the letter to anymore.)

It remains unfinished. Troy told me I can still write to her, which is true. I was never supposed to keep it, though, and seeing it again fills me with more waves of grief, regret, sadness and longing.




                                                          *sigh*

Some days are better than others, but I'm trying to still find ways to laugh. I'm trying to still look for and find all things silly, weird, and funny. I'm trying to still be silly, weird and funny. It's one way to connect with Jenny, one way to feel close to her. (Explanation of this picture: I wanted to take a picture of the sun bather in Hyde Park [I mean, c'mon! Look how hairy and gloriously unashamed he is!], but didn't want to look like a creep, so Jenny was my decoy.)

(What would life in the Bay Area be without at least one blurry BART picture?) Again, some days are better than others. But I'm trying to find ways to be happy, if for no other reason than to live like she did. I'm trying to have (and spread) hope, faith, and love - in her honor. When I do, it's another way to remember and connect with Jenny.

I love you, Jenny. I miss you terribly. But whatever the afterlife holds for us, I hope we can do everything we did here on Earth (and more!). And I hope that includes running around in handmade-from-Berkeley mukluks again. I'll keep my red and blue ones till then.