seven

I feel like it's only been a short time since I wrote the entry "six"... and yet here we are a year later. At "seven".

Dear Jaime,

Seven years. I think back on the me that you knew seven years ago and I can only hope that you are able to see who I am now. You would have been so proud of me. I'm getting back up on the stage, doing the thing we both loved best. You would actually be phenomenal in the show I'm in now... it's such a wacky comedy, full of the physical humor and comic timing you excelled at. I'm also mother to the most beautiful baby girl... you would adore her. I wish she could know you.

I still think about you all the time. Joe and I went to Vegas last week and we saw street performers in the Venetian and as always those silly human statues had me caught in a place between smiling and wanting to cry. I'm going to the beach this weekend and, while it's thankfully so much less painful to walk to the point now, I still find myself walking towards the houses more often than not. It's just a little easier that way. I'm also hoping to re-set the piece I choreographed for you in 2003 this year on some of my amazing students. Since it was my first real work of choreography I feel like I can make some changes to make it even better now... a better testament to what an inspiration you were in life... and how painful it was to lose you.

My life is very full at this point... I'm turning 26 next month and I feel like I'm exactly where I hoped I would be. My family is happy and always a joy to be with, Joe is working hard and supporting me and keeping us both laughing, Laine is healthy and happy and such a pleasure to be around, and I have found fulfillment through community theatre (which I'm sure you can relate to) and a job surrounded by exceedingly talented kids. But know that you are missed. Maybe not as constantly and achingly as you once were... but I think that's a good thing. But you are, and will always be, a hand print on my heart. I love you.

Greer