Remembering Yula, Harry and Jenny Jones (sorry this is a sad one)

My Memorial Day Tribute:

I have lost a lot of people dear to me in the past few years.

My grandmother, who we called Yula, was my kindred spirit. She was the spunkiest grandma I've ever known. She knew more about sports than most men, in her prime she could throw a mean fast ball and she still looked like a glamorous movie star til the end. She was a florist, and every time I stopped by the shop she would give me a carnation. They always smelled the prettiest. And she always made me homemade pimento cheese sandwich! I've never been able to duplicate that recipe. And no one will ever be able to duplicate my Yulee!

My brother Harry. My younger brother Harry is technically my step-brother. Our parents have been married for 25 years, so really he is much more than just a "step-brother." We grew up together. My first memory of meeting him was when we went to a carnival and my little brother Geoff was still in a stroller, so Harry had to be maybe 4. Which means Nick was probably 6 and I was 5. Can you imagine having 4 kids all within the ages of 2 and 6? My step-sister is a few years older, and even though she's one of my best friends now, she wanted nothing to do with us back then. I guess I wouldn't have either ;-P
Harry was the life of the party! He was the jokester! He put everyone else's needs in front of his. He was a booger too! Practical-joker, pain-in-the-asser! The 4 of us used to beat the crap out of each other, but if anyone messed with us we were a team. He unfortunately passed at the VERY young age of 23. September 8th, 2001. This day will forever haunt me. When someone close to you dies, you always think there is something you could have done to save them. However, my biggest regret is not telling him all the time how much I loved him. How he was a real brother to me, blood or not. I hope he knows now and I hope he has found peace.

My good friend, Jenny Jones. She's been on my mind lately because her 29th birthday would have been Wednesday. She only passed this past November from a car accident.
Jen was a mother without a child. She was one of Reilly's godmother's. If you could have seen her face light up every time she saw him, you would know what I mean. After Reilly was born she and Amy were at my house almost every day. She would tell me to go take a nap and she had everything under control, and she did. I don't know how I would have made it through the first few months without her. I think the first time Reilly smiled, it was at her. She cherished every moment she spent with him, and he with her.
This young girl took care of everyone around her. She was a natural nurturer. She had a tough exterior and didn't let a lot of people in, but if you were one of the lucky ones, you were in for life. Her laughter was infectious. She was the "Monica," if you will, of our group. The hostess with the mostess! Now that I am embarking on my second shot at motherhood, I will surely miss her even more than I already do.

Death makes me mad! I understand that it eventually happens to everyone. My grandmother got to live a pretty long, happy life. This doesn't make it any less hard when she passed, but it helps the healing process. My brother and Jen, I don't get. I don't think I ever will. I still think about where I was when both incidents happened. I still think about what I could have done to save them. I still wish I could go back to that day and do things differently. They had so much life in front of them. It just doesn't seem fair. The only way I know to deal with it is by remembering the good times, remembering what they stood for and trying to keep their memories alive within myself and with my children. I love and miss you all!