I've Been Missing You

Dear Cheryl,

You've been gone for a year now, and in that year not a day passed by without me thinking of you.

I've relived so many memories... memories of you and I Black Friday shopping together, fighting crowds at Tanger Outlet in Lancaster County, PA, and coming back almost empty handed; of buying matching shoes polka-dotted in multiple colors, just because we could; of making up a secret code to communicate without anyone else knowing what we were saying (Dar de dready, dor dar de dwhat?); of mopping Grandma Weaver's kitchen floor at midnight because there was absolutely no way we'd let her do it at that ungodly hour, and besides, we were up and had no intentions of going to bed any time soon anyhow; and of sneaking out late at night to go on long walks, making the most of our time together, because time together didn't happen very often and we both felt it was extremely precious.

You were the life of the party, full of humor and whit, friendly to anyone and everyone. People loved to be around you because you loved people.

It's been years since I last saw you, and an entire year now since you died, but I still find myself at times reaching for my phone because I want to type out a quick text to find out how you are doing, ask about your boys and Jason, and just catch up on life... Reality pulls me back each time as grief washes over me.

Life moves on, but the pain of loss is still there.

During the month of April you've been on my mind even more than normal, and I know why. It has to do with dates and anniversaries - both have a way of bring up memories and emotions I thought I had worked through. But it also has a lot to do with me being pregnant too. My sweet little baby could arrive any day now. I think of what you must have been feeling, of the joy and excitement, but also the nervous anticipation for what was ahead of you... though you had know idea what lay ahead; none of us did.

I think of this, because while I do hope for and expect a good outcome, I now know, more than ever, that nothing is certain in life. I'm not going into childbirth with great fear, but I do at times feel apprehension that I didn't feel with Carson. Apprehension that is there not because of the intensity and pain that comes with labor, but because if things don't go as planned, I can't bare the thought of saying good-bye. Not yet, not with Carson so young and my life with Herm barely started.

You probably didn't think of these things. You were eager for the joy ahead. And the joy ahead - heaven - was so much greater than anything you could have imagined, I'm sure. But Cheryl, here on earth, and with my small and very limited comprehension of things eternal I can't quite wrap my mind around your death being something of joy, for the pain in my heart still is raw and deep.

You looked so beautiful and at peace as your body lay in the casket, your precious newborn in your arms... It's those of us you left behind who wish circumstances would have been different, that we wouldn't have to know life without you. We feel that absence deeply, and so I cling to the memories of you, for those are things of joy.

I've been missing you,


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  1. My heart aches as I read this. So many of these emotions I can identify with! "Death being something of joy"... so hard to wrap my mind around this.
    Prayers for you as you anticipate labor and delivery of a sweet baby!

  2. Beautifully written. Cheryl was my bestie. I miss her so much!