Tuesday, September 10, 2019

18 years ...

18 years ... seems like a life time, and it seems like yesterday. This evening my thoughts went to Sept. 10, 2001. What a nice, normal night it was.  Jeff took Meaghan to cheerleading practice with his newspaper in hand and Julia in tow. Meg was 11 and Julia was 7. Julia played in the grass (probably with a sibling of another cheerleader) while Jeff read the paper. He told me that night that pages of his newspaper blew away and he found great humor in watching Julia chase them around the field. He always did find our kids' antics quite amusing. When he and the girls came home from cheerleading, he and Matthew, who was 13, hung a new basketball backboard that they found brand new in the Kmart dumpster. He was so proud of that find! They played HORSE in the new hoop, and Matthew beat him for the first time.

After a family dinner and while he was getting ready for his trip to California for a 3-day conference, he rambled off some information about bills, payments, blah blah blah like he always did before he left for a trip. I half listened, as I always did. We spent some time that night talking in bed about nothing and everything. The next morning, our world shattered. The life we had planned as a family disintegrated before our eyes on national tv. Suddenly our little family was part of American and World history.

What I wouldn't do to turn the calendar back, even for five minutes to tell him things I've wanted to say since then. Today a Globe reporter asked me what I would say to Jeff. Surprising myself, I unsuccessfully tried to choke back the urge to cry. "I'd tell him I love him and always will, and I miss him," I said to the reporter. "I'd also tell him how proud he would be of our kids, that they grew up to be exactly who we wanted them to be -- funny and kind."

The last 18 years the kids grew to be various versions of him, some of me, and a lot of the two of us combined. From 18 years of grief I grew to be more compassionate and understanding and better able to appreciate life's little moments. Jeff left me with many blessings --  our kids, love, family, humor and so much more. We've made great strides in 18 years. We've moved forward, not on. We've gotten through it, not over it. I've learned the heart has the capacity to love what was while loving what is. And I've learned time doesn't heal wounds; it gives your heart and your head the strength to accept and deal with the pain of loss.

Equally importantly, I've learned being kind makes the heart smile, fills the soul, and gives you purpose. Share kindness today in memory of all those you love who've passed. What better way is there to honor and remember them?