First Day of the Rest of My Life

July 15, 2017 and the days following have their own memories, albeit fuzzy memories.

The endless texts, e-mails, messages, phone calls.

The being forced to be somewhat social when the person who did all this was gone.

I remember one person asking how I was, and I laughed saying that at least one of us wasn’t dead.

Sitting with his family as they helped me to work through the details.

No funeral, as he wouldn’t have wanted that.  We talked.  He wanted to be a tree.

Trying to work with others and then realizing that he would have wanted me as little stressed as possible.

Making the decision about how to handle a memorial service.

The good memory with this, the only one that I can really remember, is a 2-hour long phone call with a friend i had lost touch with.

We both had our own lives, the random ‘hey how are you’ texts and the insight to each others lives that social media allowed.

But this call, this call was clear.

Standing on my porch, I remember thinking in that instant that things would work out.  That i had one person on my side that i knew I could count on without question. As he spoke, it allowed me to sort through my own thoughts and randomly share them.  This friendship is what helped me through the numbing days.  It is helping me through the bad days.

I have been blessed with close friends who didn’t run at the sign of ‘oh crap Grayce is going to be different.’  In fact, they came to me with open arms.

Marissa.  Carrie.  Jonathan.  Three people who I could call at anytime, who showed up with open arms anytime i needed them.  Deitra and Danny, two people who took me out the night it really started to hit.

So while memories do consume me at times, remembering these people,,, that is what helps.  Knowing that they, in their own ways, respected and cared about Chris.  Cared about me.  Showing that i WASN’T AS ALONE AS i FELT.

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