Yesterday I opened up my Facebook page and saw that my father-in-law has posted this simple status update, and I burst into tears at work. (Let Her Go was Jaime’s favorite song when she died, and we played it at her memorial service)
Charlie and I have talked about how odd grief is. How is it possible to vacillate between having a nice, calm day and not really thinking about Jaime to absolutely sobbing at the shittiness of her being dead at 27 years old? How in the world is she gone?
It’s just so fucking unfair.
Last night our former Pastor & his wife were in town, and they made a special effort to come to our house for dinner. We haven’t seen them but once since they moved away when he retired last fall, and it was so wonderful to see them again. After my Mom, they were the first people I called on that awful day, and when his wife answered the phone and heard me sobbing, she instantly knew it was me and said, “He’s already on his way.”
That’s part of why I have a love/hate relationship with small towns. My Pastor had already somehow heard. And he was already on his way. I found out later that his wife had lost her daughter in her 20s as well, so she understood all too well what we were going through. They were rocks for us through those initial grief stricken days, and they continue to be our rocks today.
Faith. Grief. Love. Sadness. Joy. They’re all intertwined. I’m so thankful to have the family and friends and faith that I do. It makes the happy days even better and the sad days a little more bearable.
Every day I miss you, Jaime. Every day we talk about you. We’ll never forget you. Love, SIL.