Watching
Last night Mare and I had our first radio show. It was really fun and I enjoyed it a lot. It was the bright spot of my not so wonderful week. My college writing class is about death. Or that is how it seems to be. We are reading The Lovely Bones and the main character watches her family go on without her from above.
Last night after I was done messing around with the radio show and had some time to think, I wondered if Shelly was watching me. If she was proud of me. Proud of the young woman I'm growing up to be. If it was the old days, I would go home in two weeks and get to tell her all about the radio show and DC and my life here. Instead, I go home in two months and go to her grave unveiling. 11 Months already. How is that possible? I feel like I just got that phone call at school, the message from Jenna on my answering machine. The panic in her voice, mixed with the forced calm. Four days before that we had watched the OC up in her room. One week later, Shelly died.
The sound of train whistles reminds me of that Tuesday night that I spent on Jenna's bed, listening to her spill her soul to me about how scared she was of her mom dying, about moving on with life, about how she was going to live in that house after she was gone. I laid there and listened to her voice mix with the sounds of the house. And as the night moved on, I listened to the train that was traveling up out of the valley. Away from Akron, and going some place completely unknown to me. Kind of like the journey Shelly was about to embark on.
I miss her everyday. Some days more than others. It depends on my mood, how my day is going. Some days the weight of her death seems to hit me. Other days, I briefly remember the grave, or something will remind me of her. Certain days I like to talk to Jenna for a bit, just to remember. The best days are when we get to be together. Back at home, with nothing by lazy days over break was the best. Sitting in my room, talking to her, about everything from Shelly to school to boys. She listens better than anyone.
Sarah will give birth next month. Jenna and I will finish our first year of college in May. We have our entire lives ahead of us, and our families are continuing to move forward. But I remember Shelly everyday. Good or bad, she will always be with me. From Ohio to DC, to everywhere. Sarah's daughter will never get to know her Step-Grandma. She'll never get to have her give that smile, or tell her the jacket she's wearing isn't warm enough. Or get her water when she isn't thirsty, or give her a lesson on the female body. No, she'll have to hear it from all of us. Those who grew up loving Shelly and everything she did.
If her death taught me anything, it was to cherish my own mother, do a lot with my life and try my hardest. I hope I'm making her proud. And I hope that she's happy with what she see's all her girls accomplishing.
Love,
Shannon
Last night after I was done messing around with the radio show and had some time to think, I wondered if Shelly was watching me. If she was proud of me. Proud of the young woman I'm growing up to be. If it was the old days, I would go home in two weeks and get to tell her all about the radio show and DC and my life here. Instead, I go home in two months and go to her grave unveiling. 11 Months already. How is that possible? I feel like I just got that phone call at school, the message from Jenna on my answering machine. The panic in her voice, mixed with the forced calm. Four days before that we had watched the OC up in her room. One week later, Shelly died.
The sound of train whistles reminds me of that Tuesday night that I spent on Jenna's bed, listening to her spill her soul to me about how scared she was of her mom dying, about moving on with life, about how she was going to live in that house after she was gone. I laid there and listened to her voice mix with the sounds of the house. And as the night moved on, I listened to the train that was traveling up out of the valley. Away from Akron, and going some place completely unknown to me. Kind of like the journey Shelly was about to embark on.
I miss her everyday. Some days more than others. It depends on my mood, how my day is going. Some days the weight of her death seems to hit me. Other days, I briefly remember the grave, or something will remind me of her. Certain days I like to talk to Jenna for a bit, just to remember. The best days are when we get to be together. Back at home, with nothing by lazy days over break was the best. Sitting in my room, talking to her, about everything from Shelly to school to boys. She listens better than anyone.
Sarah will give birth next month. Jenna and I will finish our first year of college in May. We have our entire lives ahead of us, and our families are continuing to move forward. But I remember Shelly everyday. Good or bad, she will always be with me. From Ohio to DC, to everywhere. Sarah's daughter will never get to know her Step-Grandma. She'll never get to have her give that smile, or tell her the jacket she's wearing isn't warm enough. Or get her water when she isn't thirsty, or give her a lesson on the female body. No, she'll have to hear it from all of us. Those who grew up loving Shelly and everything she did.
If her death taught me anything, it was to cherish my own mother, do a lot with my life and try my hardest. I hope I'm making her proud. And I hope that she's happy with what she see's all her girls accomplishing.
Love,
Shannon