One Year

One year has passed since our lives were changed forever. One year has passed since everything was turned upside down and inside out. I was out walking my dog that morning, and my mom called me. I thought it odd that I was getting a call on my cell from "Mom & Dad Home" at 7:53 a.m., but thought my dad just wanted to chat. I had been unemployed since the end of April, laid off from a job that I hated. I should have listened better when Nathan called my layoff a vacation, and enjoyed my time off, but instead was sad and depressed that I had no job. Little did I know, that would be the least of my worries.

I answered the phone with a slow, hesitant, "Hello?" and my mom was on the other line. She said, "Lindsay?" in a weird tone. "Yes?" I answered, now confused about why she'd called. "There's been a horrible accident," she replied. Thoughts raced through my mind of my dad driving to work and getting in a car accident. I started to wonder what hospital I'd be traveling to to visit him. I don't quite remember exactly what she said next. I think it was, "Nathan is gone." Whatever she said struck me like a lightning bolt, and my response was, "No he's not." "Lindsay, yes he is." "No!" I exclaimed, and I turned to cross the street and ran about 30 yards to my house, crossing the street with the dog, not even looking both ways. I fumbled with my keys and got inside and started to wail. I remember that as I ran to my house in disbelief of my mother's words, the only thing that convinced me it actually happened was that I knew my mother would never tell me such a thing if it were not true. I remember bits and pieces of the days following - the viewing and the funeral. I don't remember clearly the order in which I had conversations with people, who I hugged, how I got any sleep, or how I was able to eat anything.

Now it's one year later. Nothing has changed. He's still gone. I'm still sad. I still cry almost every day. I have been surrounded by the best friends and family. I still can't believe that I'm not going to get another late-night drunken phone call from Na, telling me silly stuff about his day, and ending with a heartfelt "I love you" from him. I never will heal. I've read that time makes it "easier" or "softer," but have yet to experience any such thing. All I know is that Nathan is not here, and my world, everyone's world, is a lesser place because of it. God bless all of those who have shown love, support, and compassion. God bless Nathan and his ability to bring all of us together amidst such a sad, tragic situation. There better be a Heaven.