The Eulogy I Should Have Written.

My dearest Jaimie,

I miss you more than I ever could have imagined.

I’m so full of wishes and should-haves now. I wish I would have come down and visited one more time. I should have. I wish we could have had that sleepover. I should have insisted upon it. All I wanted was to hang out with you, nothing overly exerting. Maybe get some cheesecake to fulfill that guilty pleasure of ours, but that’s it, I swear.

I wish I had given you a better eulogy, but at the time I was too absorbed in my own grief. I should have talked about how gorgeous you always were. The word gorgeous was derived just so that someday, it could be used to describe you. On both the outside and in. How rare it is to find somebody like that. First off, you had the most amazing hair. Even if it was blonde ;D. It was so thick and soft. How often does that happen? And you always had it styled in the most beautiful ways, with the accessories and fashion to match. And pink. Everything was always pink. How incredible it was that everyone thought to wear it to the ceremony to honor you, without having to be prompted.

But J, it wasn’t your style and fashion that made you gorgeous. Your eyes were deep and full of compassion. They bore into the souls of those you came into contact with, and it was impossible not to feel your love radiating through them. You shared others’ emotions and through your eyes I couldn’t ever help but feel as though you truly understood everything I felt. You were sad with me when I was sad, shared joy when something good came to me. You comforted me when I was down and felt pain when I did. You had darling cheeks, when you smiled they were rounded and full. You could always cheer me up with that smile. And with your adorable giggle that never changed from childhood.

So many memories from those early days have kept my mind occupied these last couple of weeks. I remember building potato bug farms with bubble caps full of water for all of their hydration needs. Too bad we didn’t realize potato bugs don’t drink like we do. We would play epic Barbie adventures, days on end. Of course, sorting all the goods probably took more time than the actual plot lines did. We watched Mighty Morphing Power Rangers daily, followed by Full House. You were so upset that time that I missed them both, because I was sick.

Of course there is the epic memory when we made Amanda a “chocolate” pie out of mud, and she ate it. And the time we planted an apple seed for Johnny Appleseed day in the front yard and it grew! But we were too afraid we would get in trouble that we didn’t tell your parents, and the lawn mower demolished it. On St. Patrick’s day the Leprechauns came and left gold in our classroom, and when we went home we continued to search for more gold in the yard by the canal. But it was New Year’s Eve that was always our holiday. We would make confetti and stash it until the ball dropped, because we knew the parents would be mad if they suspected our plot to mess up the house.

I hated you going to a different school in third grade, and was ecstatic when you came back to me halfway through fourth. I remember how very lonely I was when you were in Texas in sixth grade. I would look forward to being able to talk in chat rooms, back in the days before Messenger and free long distance on cell phones. I was jealous of your friendships with Jessica and later Melissa, because you were always mine.

You were mine because you are a part of me. We are two halves that came together to make a whole. Our opposites completed each other. You were blonde, a dog girl, liked to sing and be in the spotlight. I, a brunette, into cats, shy as one can imagine. But you were also the better half. I was bossy; you were relaxed and laid back. I had a temper, you were the gentle peacekeeper. You kept me in line ;) and loved me despite my flaws. You are more than a friend, you are my sister.

You taught me what friendship is. Thank you for that beautiful note. I love you forever for leaving me with that precious gift. You are my best friend too, for eternity.

I read a scripture the other night, and I instantly thought of you. 2 Nephi 22:2 and Isaiah 12:2 “Behold, God is my salvation: I will trust and not be afraid; for the Lord Jehova is my strength and my song; he also has become my salvation.”

I remember when we were 15 we talked about religion, and you weren’t into it at all. Then when we talked about it a few months ago, the light of Christ shone within you. When you got sick, rather than curse Heavenly Father for your trials, you grew closer to Him. You loved his Son with all your heart. You had such a strong testimony of Christ. I know you have been through so much pain, and I know that Christ knew exactly what you felt. I know He was your rock. I know the Atonement happened so that your gorgeous soul would be able to live with Him for eternity. And though I miss you so much it hurts, I’m comforted to know that you are in the presence of our Heavenly Father and our Savior.

I am grateful for all of my memories of my beautiful Jaim. I’m so, so grateful you called me from the hospital and we got to chat one last time. And I’m so, so sorry that I didn’t check back up with you until it was too late. I hate that I let myself get so caught up in life, full of meaningless obligations. I’ve been so self absorbed over the past few years that I’ve forgotten to take care of the relationships that mean so much to me. I just read our Facebook posts, which mostly consist of you trying to get me to come and visit. Why didn’t I do it more? Salt Lake isn’t that far away. Yet, I didn’t. I’ll always regret that. Thank you for being there for me anyway, when it should have been me there for you.

I’m sorry for the time we lost that we could have had together. I wish we could have been closer during those early teens, but I’m so glad I found you again. I’m grateful for the extra years we got together. I still wish you could have come to USU with me, but I’m glad you got to experience college before you left this world. You would have been a fantastic nurse. It is in your nature to nurture. I wish you could have had love again before you went. I hope you get the man of your dreams up there, you deserve him. I hope you get to raise children in the millennium. Though I know you aren’t gone forever, I hate thinking that we will be apart for the next eighty years or so.

Thank you for teaching me the beauty of friendship. Thank you for sharing your gorgeous light with me.

Friends for eternity,

Marn