I will not wear black.

I guess I am ready to talk about "it".

About an hour after I got home from a long weekend with friends and family in the mountains, we got a phone call.

Steve told PEM, he was a friend of mine from high school and needed to speak with me. I walked out to the back porch to take the call.

Once he told me which Steve, he proceeded to tell me that David, Jackie and the baby were in a bad accident Saturday. He assured me that David and Joshua were fine, but that Jackie...and there was a pause. For that split second, I expected him to tell me she was in the hospital, not doing well, that she wanted to see me, that I would need to go down there to help David with Joshua. Instead, he broke the news. Jackie died at the scene of the accident. I cried. I didn't speak to him. I sobbed. I handed the phone to PEM and collapsed. It couldn't be right.

PEM went inside and wrote some information down. He came back outside and touched me and held me. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I told PEM, that this wasn't supposed to happen, that she finally had what she wanted, a baby and a wonderful husband.

I called my mom, then my dad, then Corey, then my brother. My mom wasn't sure if she heard me correctly. My dad, already crying when he answered the phone, knew. Steve had called him for my phone number. Corey, who was in the car at the time, comforted me and told me to please call him back when I could. My brother, my brother was hit pretty hard. My entire family, including Corey, were all saddened by the loss of my "sister". My twin, who shared the same birthday, and with whom I shared the loss of her parents, and daughter just as she shared the loss of my marriage. She and I were in each other's weddings. We grew up together with each other's families loving us as if we were their own daughters.

My friends, who listened to my grief as I kept them in touch step by step during the birth and death of Sarah, wept and offered condolences to a woman they'd never met, but felt as if they knew.

These same friends were thrilled to hear that she had Joshua, a healthy baby boy, just three months ago. She was finally complete. Her family, her life, complete.

Jackie, David and Joshua were to visit next month. Instead, I will see David and get to meet Joshua for the first time in a couple of days.

Here is the good thing. When I think of Jackie, I can HEAR her laugh. I can SEE her smile. Probably, because that's mostly how I saw her. She had a GREAT laugh. I love it. I won't forget that.

There has been a lot of death, and with each one, I got "better" at handling it. Death, is a part of life. Jackie and I spoke often of death. We had to, it was around us a lot. We spoke of growing old together and celebrating 50 years of friendship. We both wanted to be cremated. We both wanted our lives to be celebrated not mourned. Jackie, I am in mourning, but I am healing and I promise to keep your memory alive. I also promise not to wear black to your funeral. We are COLOR people!!! :-)

Jackie, You are still with me, as is Sarah. As are your parents.

I love you Jackie. I love you and I miss you.

I will be sure to keep David and Joshua close to me. Joshua won't remember you, but David, your friends and family, and I will. We will introduce you to him year after year, day after day.

I love you.