Before I began this blog years ago - I attempted to journal while fresh in my grief. This "poem/writing" below was one of the very first things I wrote in the days following Jae's accident and death.
It's raw and has not been edited much at all since the day I wrote it.
Thanks be to God - I've experienced much healing since this was penned, however, the seasonal grief is still present.
I will miss you the most.
I will miss you the most in the summer, I think.
Watching lightning bugs and listening to the
whipporwills. I recall the night you got
up and I could see you silhouetted in our bedroom doorway crying that “the
wisperwillers” were keeping you awake. Our whippoorwills left when you did and
have not come back. I will miss you when
I look up into the starry night sky at Buffalo River and then sleeping
head-to-head with you in our tiny camper.
I will miss seeing you in swimsuits and sunglasses and smelling all like
suntan lotion. Us comparing our tan
lines to see who was darker. (ME!) I will miss seeing your cute feet in
sandals. I will miss getting you ready
and off to cheer camp and the early morning cheerleading practices at the end
of summer. It occurs to me that no one
could sing the “poor sick penguin” like you and I will miss that you will never
make me laugh by singing it again. I
loved watching you work with the preschoolers in VBS and I will remember your
talent each and every year and wish that you could work it again.
Yes. I
will miss you in the summer.
But I think I will miss you most in the Autumn.
The ambiance of a Friday night football game
will forever wash over me and remind me of you.
I will miss your daddy talking to you through the PA system and thanking
all the bases when they caught you after a stunt. I will miss you when the weather turns cool
because I will recall how beautiful you were in turtlenecks and sweaters. I will miss you at bonfires and after-game
parties. I wish you would be here with
me to notice all the changing leaf colors around our house. I will miss seeing what interesting and
unusual character you decided to be each year for Halloween. (Oh wait. Of course, you would be a pig.) You won’t be there to plan and anticipate the
upcoming holidays.
Yes, I will miss you
in the Autumn.
But I think I may miss you the most in the Winter.
The times you spent shivering in our living
room complaining of the cold. It always
confused us as to why you would only wear a sports bra and soffee shorts. I will miss you crawling into our bed and
sleepily whining to us about how warm and cozy it was compared to yours. And now, there’s no one except me at our
house who understands how wonderful a two hour bath can be. I’ll miss you terribly in our Thanksgiving
prayer circle before our meal. I’ll wish
you were with us when we go to the malls the day after Thanksgiving. And then at Christmas, when our family carols
to our friends and neighbors on Christmas Eve, our song will miss your sweet
warbly little voice. On Christmas
morning, our bed will still be warm and cozy but I will long for it to be
crowded with your presence as your daddy reads the Christmas story.
Oh Jae! How I will miss you in the Winter.
But I think I may miss you most in the Spring.
You and I both loved to pick flowers, but
neither of us had any interest in tending them.
Jonquils will forever remind me of how you picked a huge bouquet to
brighten your room on the very day before you left us. I will miss cheerleading competitions and
holding you together during the week of try-outs. I will miss all the yearbook signings and the
proms that aren’t to be. Spring is the
season of new life, but from now on, when I hear the birds singing their first song of Spring
I will I recall how sad they sounded the year you left. How did they know? A grim anniversary now reminds me of things
other than new life. I will always miss
you in the Spring.
I will miss you in all seasons and in between all seasons. I will always wonder what jobs you would have had and what profession you would have chosen. I will miss watching you love a man as much as I love your daddy and I was looking forward to watching you love a daughter as much as I love you. I think I will always long for you when I see Casey and Abby alone or enjoying themselves together. A family of four just seems wrong.
Your death has left the same type of frustrating pain as a song that ends abruptly just when it was reaching it’s most beautiful crescendo. I expected much more life and beauty from you and then your death came at the peak of your song. We almost had a glimpse of what you would be like as an adult, but now we will forever strain for that vision.
My life, my outlook, my
personality, my past and my future are all different now.
There is much I do not understand about all
of this.
One thing I do know is that I
will miss you the most in the Summer, Autumn, Winter and Spring.
May 2004
