Red, White, and trying my best not to be so Blue

Last year on the 4th of July, I was notified of a tragic and accidental death of one of my great loves, Gabe.

He was the boy that asked me to the Sadie Hawkins dance in 4th grade, because I was too scared to ask myself and be rejected.

And he knew it.

He held no lack of confidence,

and did not care about the rules anyway,

and just wanted to go with me,

so he made it happen.

He was the first boy to hold my hand under the table at every meal during our 8th grade confirmation retreat.

(I understand this is not the point of the confirmation retreat,

but if this is what you get by reciting so many prayers, I decided right then and there to keep on praying!).

Gabe was a first love in so many young and innocent ways.

We wondered about our romance.

By our freshman year we choose the intimacy that would be the greatest for us.

And it was friendship.

We worked together through high school and spent our time counseling each other on our individual relationships.

He wrote down lyrics of Guns and Roses music for me, because he had the cassette tape

and I didn't.

We both believed, the song "Patience" was the answer to my teenage love affair with whomever.

He asked me to go to our class Prom with him.

Knowing we were just friends, and would always be just friends.

And did I mention he won by a landslide for

Best Looking in our class?

And he chose me.

Class Clown.

We had a love, I treasure.

I introduced Darin to him so many times, they joked about having to be introduced again!

They were already friends upon first meeting.

And upon second meeting.

And still again, at their 30th introduction meeting,

hosted by me.

When Lily was born, he said

"Just wait until her first birthday

...it gets even better!"

Gabe, was larger than life to begin with.

Beautiful, unique, sensitive, and wild.

His death was a shock to me (and the world).

At the time, I couldn't grieve, in the only way, I know how = to sob.

I felt it too selfish to sob.

I wanted to be strong.

I needed to be there for his friends

and family close to him.

I was honored with the gift to give

a speech at his funeral.

I wanted to do this, minus my emotional drama.

So, I was there for his inner circle.

And I did give a speech that touched many,

and would have made him proud.

Then I tried to go back to life and

treasure what I have.

I thought I was getting over it.

And then the anticipation of his last day's anniversary in the approaching months

got me sobbing.

(this started on his birthday in February)

I sobbed for months.

I sobbed at everything.

Everything reminded me of him

and everything made me miss him.

I couldn't just feel it and move on. 

I had to sob through every last painful detail.

And apologize to everyone around me, because I knew it was old news and my grief was late and untimely.

That is how grief is.

I promised to share with you 3 friendly readers when I could,

and now I can.

I survived the day, 4th of July.

I felt a collective love pouring in from everyone that loved him, like me.

And the day wasn't as bad as the anticipation was.

I decided to mark a new chapter in my book of sad.

I turned the corner and chose to celebrate instead.

Every firework and sparkler and flag was another nudge to thank the great heavens for the blessing Gabe was to me.

So without a plan,

(because my plan was to cry my eyes out)...

I shifted gears late and quickly.

I painted our toes red, white and blue.

I ran to Target last minute for whatever clearance patriotic t-shirts I could find for the girls.

I decided we would celebrate.

We SHOULD celebrate.

We would flash our smiles for the camera.

We would show the world

that Gabe will always be remembered,

but we would do

what he would do

and that would be

to get our good timin' ON!

I had a version of Gabe's wild child spirit

sitting right next to me, afterall.

And a wee one to hold close in my arms.

The grief will never leave.

But I am glad I finally got my sob out.

I know now, that I can move on.

It took a year for that cry to come.

I earned it.

I tear up now as I write this.

I always will.

But the heart stopping, wailing, screaming, sobbing has finally happened.

Now the memories of Gabe are coming with smiles and laughs, along with softer tears.

The lyrics to this song soothe me:

The sun goes down

the stars come out

and all that counts

is here and now

the universe

will never be the same.

I'm glad you came.

I'm glad you came.