Another September 11th: For Beth
by Jenners • 09/11/2009 • Love and Loss • 36 Comments
Dear Beth,
It is September 11th again. Fittingly, it is raining. This is one day that sad people know they are not alone in their sadness. You and Mike did your best to try and “reclaim” this day … to make it a day for joy and happiness again. You were brave enough to get married on this day — 5 years ago. It was nice to have a happy thing to associate with the date of September 11th again. Although I was initially skeptical about you guys choosing this day for your wedding, I came around. I think it is good to remember the good with the bad. I liked having a happy thing to remember on this day — along with all the tragedy this day brought us in 2001.
But now September 11th is back to being a sad day. Because yesterday was your funeral and burial. You aren’t here to celebrate your 5th wedding anniversary. You should be here, Beth. You were only 35 years old. You and Mike should have years and years and years of anniversaries stretching out ahead of you.
I won’t lie to you, Beth. It is hard not be angry with God about your death. It is not right. You have a 1-year-old daughter and a newborn son — a son you never got to hold or see. I’m angry about this. Very angry. And very very sad. You probably didn’t know my dad died recently — I think you were fighting for your life about that time. I was so depressed and upset about my dad dying. But one of the comforts we had was that he had a full life — he packed in a lot of stuff. He got to see his children grow up. He got to meet all this grandchildren. He had 43 years with my mom. It helps to have these things to lean on when someone we love leaves us.
But it is hard to find any comfort in your death, Beth. You didn’t get to see your children grow up. You and Mike didn’t have years of happiness together. You didn’t get to do all that you hoped and planned. I’m finding a hard time finding comfort about your death. If you’ll excuse my language, it is pretty fucking unfair.
I know you lost your dad at a young age, and I know that caused so many problems for you. It is hard to lose a parent when you are young. And to think that your children won’t know you makes my heart heavy and sad. So I will do what I can to make you alive for them. I will write about you and what you were like and I will make sure they get this information when they are ready for it. I will sit with them and tell them everything I can remember about you. Every scrap of information I can dredge up from my brain. That is about the only thing I can think of to give to them that is meaningful. I will try to give them an image and a picture of their mother from her friend’s viewpoint.
One of the first things I’ll tell them about is your wedding day. You were a beautiful bride. Your joy was a palpable thing. You swept around the church and the reception with your gorgeous dress and a smile so wide that you glowed. (I know everyone says every bride is beautiful on their wedding day. But, let’s be honest. That’s not true. You, however, were beautiful. Your happiness just radiated all over the place.) Your children will be able to see that in the wedding photos, but I’ll be there to tell them how good the tortellini was at the cocktail reception. (I still remember that tortellini!) I’ll point out to them how two of the tuxedos in the wedding party (including my husband’s) didn’t match the others — stupid tux shop!!! I’ll tell them about how your friends put rose petals around the room you guys stayed in that night. I’ll tell them how even on your wedding day, you were worried where I was because I started bleeding right before the reception and was talking to my OB/GYN in a panic because I was nine months pregnant. (Sorry I missed your first dance as a couple due to that. I was such a worrywart at that point.) The rest of it — well, that is up to Mike to tell them as I wasn’t privy to your dream honeymoon in Hawaii. (I’m glad you guys decided to spring for that!)
I’ll tell your children how I was on your and Mike’s first date. The first date where he brought you to a party with his friends … to play charades. We all loved you right away because you were such a good sport. You joined right in and played along — even though you didn’t know any of us and didn’t really even know Mike! (But I’ll be sure to tell your daughter NOT to show up at a date’s house out in the middle of the woods alone. That was kind of dumb on your part, Beth. As we always said, “Thank goodness Mike wasn’t a psychopath.”)
I’ll tell your children about our glorious spa day at Elizabeth Arden. That was a fantastic day. Massages, manicures, pedicures, getting our make-up done, lounging in the pool. I felt like a Hollywood Star that day, Beth. I hope you did too. I learned the fine art of treating myself to spa days every so often from you — and every time I go to a spa, you will be on my mind. I’ll take your daughter one day — my treat.
I’ll tell your children about the Cruise from Hell that we took. The cruise that was supposed to be to Bermuda but got diverted to frickin’ New England and Canada due to a hurricane (first one to hit Bermuda in 70 years!). Nothing against New England and Canada, but when you’re planning for a tropical vacation in Bermuda, suddenly going North isn’t quite the same. And you and Mike had just gotten back from Maine a few weeks before — and then you ended up back in Bar Frickin’ Harbor! That sucked so bad, didn’t it? Were you ever glad it happened so we had an “amusing anecdote” to tell? Yeah…me neither. And remember when my husband got so mad because you and I disappeared into Filene’s Basement in Boston and didn’t tell them where we were going? Was it for two hours that he gave me the silent treatment or just one?
I’ll tell your children about our year of Texas Hold ‘Em Poker nights. I really do think you were one of the better players, Beth. I know the guys thought all of us girls were idiots when it came to betting and bluffing (and I’ll admit it, I was) but you were always tricking them and taking the big pots. It always gave me great satisfaction when you did that — even when it was my husband’s money you were taking!
I’ll tell your children how you helped me that first night my Little One was born and I was shivering and vomiting from the anesthesia. Your nurse instincts kicked right in, and you knew just what to do to make me feel better. I know Mike was horrified. I mean, nothing like visiting a new mom in the hospital and then watching her vomit all over herself! You were so comforting. I know you were a great nurse, and I was always a little sad you decided not to pursue that career anymore.
I’ll tell your children how their mother was possibly the oldest sorority girl in the history of the world! I just thought it was hilarious that you pledged a sorority when you were in your 30s and going back to school to get your teaching degree. But I admired you for it too — it was something you wanted so you did it. And I know your sorority sisters thought the world of you. I’ll tell your children how you and your sisters went to a concert (was it Bon Jovi?) and stayed overnight at a hotel and you were the only one with a credit card in their own name (and a husband). I know you had a lot of fun with the sorority and I’m so glad about that.
I’ll tell your children how we had play dates when your daughter was just a baby and my son was 4. I was always so impressed how relaxed and natural you were with Em — I wasn’t nearly as calm and confident as you. You were even able to breastfeed in public using the Hooter Hider (I still laugh over that name.)
I’ll tell your children how we always felt we were married to the same man — cheap, anal-retentive, OCD computer geeks. Neither one of us could buy premium tissues with lotion without getting a lecture about unit price!
I’ll tell your children how Mike dragged you to seemingly millions of concerts — including way too many by Hall and Oates.
I’ll tell your children how you weren’t scared of roller coasters.
I’ll tell your children how you loved the Harry Potter books and the movies. How you went to the book store at midnight and waited for the last Harry Potter book to be released. I’ll make sure they read all the books and see all the movies as I know your husband is a Muggle. I’ll give them a copy of each book on their birthdays and tell them that these were books their mother loved and wanted them to read. I’m sure that will be a small comfort to them — to have books that they know their mother adored.
I’ll do my best to make you come alive for them, Beth. I’ll tell them what a loving, calm person you were — and how being a mother was the thing you wanted most in life. I’m glad you had those few precious months with Em.
I know you are with God now. You were a good person who always put others before herself. You were loved, Beth. I’ll miss you.
Love,
Jen
Hers is such a sad story… I'm glad you're determined to keep her memory alive by sharing with her kids. You are a good person.
Oh Jen!! This is such a beautiful and touching tribute to Beth!! Her children are so lucky their Mom had a friend like you! These are memories they will cherish and treasure forvever thanks to you!! As I wipe the tears from my eyes while reading this, I hope your pain can be somewhat lessened by realizing what a wonderful gift and blessing your tribute is for Beth's Family as well as for us, all your faithful followers!
Oh Jen! I'm sitting here in tears…what a wonderful, heartfelt, beautiful tribute to your wonderful friend.
((HUGZ!!))
Hi Jenners,
What a beautiful post… it made me cry and realized what if Beth were me? I'd be very honored and at the same time smile at what you'll tell my children.
i was glad i visited your blog. long time no hear…
Meili
http://www.shewritesyouwrite.com/
You will be a wonderful source of information for the children. It's too sad to lose someone so young!
Oh, my…. I'm crying as I read this. It's every mom's worst nightmare, isn't it? Not getting to see your kids grow old, and the kids having to grow up without their mommy… My heart is just breaking for her husband and babies. And for you, too – a double-whammy…. ouch.
You have written a beautiful tribute to her, though. I am sure Mike and the kids, when they are older, will treasure it.
I'm so sorry for your loss.
I am holding back tears. This is a breathtaking tribute to your friend, Beth, and I know she rests comfortably knowing that you are not going to let her children forget about her. I am so sad for this. It is hard enough to lose someone who has lived a long life, like you said, but so much harder when you feel they should have had so much more time here.
I really loved the stories you told about her wedding, her first date with her husband, your play dates. What nice memories to have. I suddenly have the urge to call my best friend. I miss her terribly since she lives in Virginia and we don't talk nearly often enough.
Hugs to you and I will say a prayer and light a candle for her family, too.
?
How awful. I'm sorry and that doesn't really help and I'm sorry about that not helping.
Ugh. I miss her for you. And for her baby and for her husband.
I agree hard not to be mad.
Jenners,
Thank you.
Love,
Kendra
What a beautiful tribute to your friend. What a blessing that you will be there to share those memories with her children.
We lost my brother-in-law to a freak car accident five years ago. He left behind his pregnant wife (Lane's sister) and a fifteen month old little boy. Though my SIL is remarried, his memory is very much alive in their home. The kids are proud to have a daddy in heaven, as well as a dad here on earth.
Devastating. I'm sorry.
I'm so very very sorry! You have many good memories that I hope will ease the burden of your sorrow…
This just isn't fair.
I'm so sorry for your loss.
That is one letter that I hope one day you give to Beth's children. Better yet, I'm sure Mike would love to read it too.
I'm sure many who read this will wish they had a friend like Beth.
Thank you for sharing Beth with us. Your love and affection for her are so strong. I'm overwhelmed with emotion as I write this. Mike and her children will treasure your kindness and support always. Jen, I'm so sorry for the pain you must be feeling. Hugs to you always.
What a sweet loving letter to Beth. I am still thinking and praying for her family and friends.
xox
This was so beautiful, Jen. And also really tear jerking. Beth and her children are all so fortunate to have you as a friend, because Beth was able to share such wonderful memories with you, and you have this incredible talent that will allow you to pass those memories on to her children in a way not many people could. I wish there was something I could say that would make it not suck. You've had a really, really rough couple of weeks.
Soooo sad. I cannot imagine. Sometimes being angry is ok. Time is the only thing that "heals" us….if it is possible.
She sounded like a wonderful and fun person. Her children will be lucky to have you in their lives, sharing memories of their mother with them. You are a great friend!
Is it wrong that while reading this I wished that you lived near me so we could be real-life friends?
I am so sorry. This breaks my heart. Hugs.
What wonderful memories you have, and to be able to share them with her children. You really are amazing Jen, keep the memories coming!
I could not even get through the entire posting. Rough day for many reasons.
Lovely remarks and memories – at least the ones I read.
Could it be September 12th already? Way too many tears today. This was simply beautiful. Thank you for sharing it. Sending you prayers and hugs to get through this time.
Jen…you are such a beautiful soul…
I am so deeply sorry for the losses you have suffered recently. I was so touched by this very moving post. She was so lucky to have you, Jen. Her children will be so blessed by your gift with "the right words" to get to know their mama.
Sending you loads of hugs wrapped in angels wings…
Peace be with you, my friend….
*tears*
((HUGS))
I think she was lucky to have a friend like you.
I got goose bumps reading this post. You are such a beautiful person, Jen. And such a good friend. Her children are going to love you for this and I know that she is smiling down at you from heaven.
I so wish I could make this sadness go away for you. I am so sorry.
This was beautiful. You will do a good job. Thank you for sharing.
Jenners,
You are a wonderful friend who will always be someone important to Beth's children and her husband.
I hope your memories of her will help to carry you over to happier times.
She sounds like someone who wouldn't want you to be angry and sad for too long.
Remember that.
((HUGS)))
I'm not even sure I can type this through the tears. I'm so sorry, for your friend, for her family, and for you. I'm so glad you're there to help carry on her memory. And I'm so glad you wrote this so that we could know her, just a little bit, too. XOXO
Jenners, you will have no problem making Beth come alive for her children. I feel like I've been given a glimpse of someone important in your life…and I know a little of who she was.
This is a wonderful tribute and something you can point to when her children ask about her. Beth is at peace just knowing you are there for Mike and her children.
I had no idea how real that friendship was until I read this post. You've been through a lifetime of memories together.
I don't think we can ever understand why things like this happen and I have no doubt I'd be angry too.
I'm grateful that while in life she had the blessing of having you for a friend. I know that she still holds all these treasured memories as well.
XOXO
What a beautiful post in honor of your friend. It gave me the chills reading it.
Her memory will live on in your beautiful and funny words.
Honestly, Jen, how am I going to explain the tears spontaneously leaking from my eyeballs at work?
I feel that I, too, have come to know your friend Beth through you. And really, that is the greatest gift you can give Mike and his kids. To remember Beth the way she was, all her good and bad days, all the charm and radiance she seemed to have brought to so many lives. YOU are a true blue friend Jen, and I believe that Beth is smiling on you, with her arm over the shoulder of your dad.
I am praying for you and for your friends. Thank you for reminding me that life is indeed precious and that you never know how you will change another's life.
Enjoy the day, my friend.
Erin
none of this makes any sense… life is so precious and i don't know why it is so easy to be complacent and just live life, gettin' by. i read your letter to beth and it makes me want to be a better person. a better mother. but it probably won't be 24 hrs til i am back to snapping at the kids and going through the motions.
i am so sorry you are going through this horribly difficult time. i don't know what else to say.
Jen,
This is a beautiful tribute to your friend. I hope you are still blogging when Beth's children are old enough to read it.
I like your thought about "reclaiming" the day (today is also my brother's 5th anniversary) but I feel like after reading this that you have also "reclaimed" Beth's life. It's the little moments that make a whole life and her children will find in these moments that though she had a short life, she still had a full life. Of course there was room for more but it sounds like her time here was not wasted.
My thoughts are with you and her family on this difficult day.