She tragically passed away two years ago today. She was young, 22, she was vibrant and she was just beginning her life after graduating from college a few weeks earlier. She was my sister-in-law, the only sibling-in-law I had at the time. Which made her the only Aunt to my son on that side.
I’ve wanted to write about her for quite some time now, honor her life. Remember the stories. How I wish I’d written down the stories sooner, now that it’s later they’ve been slipping away slowly. That’s what happens.
How I’ve never laughed harder than the time I complimented her romper, and she with a smile from-ear-to-ear, turns to me and says, “Oh this? It’s not a romper, it’s just stuck in my ass!” Then she chuckled her contagious laugh, and we would laugh about it for days to come. So many stories, so many laughs.
Originality. One of her boldest qualities.
The sharp knife of a short life. These were lyrics to a song that became popular shortly before the incident. How that song would come on my radio while driving and the tears would fall. That knife was too sharp. And that life too short. I’d think of her, remember her innocence.
I am also too grateful to know that now she is in a better place, being taken care of, being celebrated. Her soul rejoicing in pure happiness. No distractions now, just pure love.
Sweet Becca Jean.
I see her often, as I see and feel so much of her in Holden. Her mannerisms, her body. The way his mouth moves when he eats, when he kisses. Some of his looks. Most of his looks. Those one-second glimpses he can give when his eyes meet mine; chills run down my spine as I feel her presence. His own guardian angel.
Becca was known to make others feel good about themselves. Always complimenting, always encouraging. Sticking by your side. This was no different in the way that she treated me from the moment we met. Her love for me didn’t lessen over the years but became even more apparent when I became a mother. Always telling me, “Sami, you’re such a great mom. Holden is so lucky to have you.”
She took to me. She loved me.
Not long after her passing, Holden and I moved home. In a matter of days, time unraveled itself quickly. I left my marriage.
As mentioned in Rock Bottom and the Inner Journey, one of my earliest posts, I very possibly may have felt this presence for the first time, not long after moving home. Upon seeing a butterfly flutter and feeling the sunshine on my face… I felt hope when I needed it the most. The warmness of her heart still radiating. Still caring for me, still caring for Holden.
How little I know about her role, what her purpose had been in this lifetime. I’m not God. But what I do know is that that role was much bigger than what she would have thought she was capable of- especially when it came to affecting my life, Holden’s life. Much greater than any one of us could understand. She helped me during days no one else could, and that was after she was gone. And I pray that she knows I’m thankful for that.