Jami

2 years ago,  I attended a funeral. She was a brilliant, energetic, loving woman.  Way too young to leave us. She was one of the most beautiful people I know.  She battled with her weight, and often lost, so she said.  But, oddly, I never saw her weight.  I saw her smile.  Her inner light.  Her quirky chunky highlights and the bright bold clothes that she’d wear.  She lit up a room when she walked in.  Her personality exploded through. She loved – and I mean LOVED – animals, especially dogs.  She was one of those people that no matter who was around, she made YOU feel like you were the most important person in the room.

Her death was one of the hardest things that I have had to deal with.  The questions that plagued me the anger I felt toward her for leaving us.  See, she chose to leave us. All of the love that she exuded didn’t seem to help her battle the depression within.  She never saw how wonderfully she impacted our lives.  Or was it our failure?  Was there more that I could have done to reinforce how we needed her?  How we loved her?  There were so many questions.  I still have no answers, except one.

My dear friend, Chris, knew I wouldn’t have heard the news.  I had been traveling for work and I don’t read the Obits.  She stopped by before work to tell me.  The funeral was that night and she knew I would want to attend.  The answer I have: I know how much she loves me. True friendship.  She loves me enough to tell me the sad, ugly and bad stuff.  She’s not just around for the good, silly, and happy times.

To Jami, my love for you is still strong. I think of you often and can’t help but see you smiling back at me.  I pray that you have found your peace and that you have finally found the beauty in yourself that has been so apparent to everyone else. 

To Chris, thank you for being the loving and amazing friend you are.