If Jody still is

These past few days, leading up to Jody’s anniversary, have been hard—just as I knew they would be. A return to those early days of grief, when I wandered through the house in a fog, numb and disbelieving, still half-expecting her to walk through the door and call out, “I’m home, sweetheart.”

But then something settled over me, this quiet realization: if Jody still exists somewhere, in some form- as my faith teaches- then how deeply, how fervently she must be praying for me. Praying that I make it through. Praying for our family. Sending love, steady and strong.

And if it’s Jody, then it can’t be only Jody. It’s Mom and Dad. It’s Cora and Red. It’s cousin Tommy, gone these forty years. It’s Charlie, my first boss, taken too soon. If Jody is out there, then so are they—all of them. A whole army of loved ones, lifting me up, cheering us on, willing us to keep living, to rediscover joy even in the ache. Trusting that someday, somehow, we’ll all be together again.

If I believe Jody is still out there, still being in some way—then I have to believe the rest of it, too.

Yes, her one-year anniversary is next week. But just a few days after that, it’s Easter Sunday. And there’s something so achingly beautiful about that.

Love you all

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