Courtney

Six years ago my Courtney left this world and I think of her every day. Today is a little harder than most, so I am writing her a little love letter.

I love sparklers, the queen of fireworks, and have since childhood. I have always looked forward to New Years and the Fourth of July because I was assured at least one pack of the pretty things. I can remember, as a child writing my name with the tip, leaving behind the smoky remnants and the sweet smell of the sulphur and ash. How beautiful are the sparks of light that the wand spits off, and how joyful are the shoots of color that flicker. And then, the last spark flies and things are darker than they were before you put the match to the end of the dainty stick. Now, when I am writing my name in the darkness, I think of Courtney. Just like these little luminous batons, Courtney spit fire and wonderful light and immense joy into my life. Then she was gone and the world was a little dimmer.

I miss her today like I did the moment I found out she was gone. I still catch myself thinking, “I’ve got to call Courtney,” just to tell her about some completely random thought I just had, or to tell her about an author that I am in love with today, or about a band that we should follow around the country. It is always bittersweet because I can feel her close to me in those moments, but then I can’t share them with her either. When I really miss her I will ride with my windows down, listen to music louder than I should and tell her about all those things I’ve had bottled up, as though she was right beside me. There have been times in the past six years when I have needed her and she was there; in a poem, or song, or hymn; in the sweet smell of spring, or the kiss of a fall breeze on my cheek, or the crisp smell of winter in my nostrils. I called my mama this morning to tell her I loved her and just to talk, and I hugged my kids a little tighter than normal before telling them goodbye and I hit snooze and snuggled up to Jonathan a few extra minutes and I have prayed constantly this morning for those I love and those others I know are missing her. I guess that is one lasting gift she left me, that when I think of her I love a little deeper than I had before, knowing how fast this life really goes.

I have so many memories: Dancing in our pajamas, driving to Nashville, Memphis and Jackson to hear bands play, staying up all night writing papers, sitting in the grass making necklaces out of flowers, hiding *ugley* bug, reading to one another, playing dress up, laughing uncontrollably, crying uncontrollably, just talking until we fell asleep. Like the sparklers that burn up so fast, she was gone too quickly and her life was too brief, but while she was here she burned bright and beautiful and made everyone’s life more joyful. I still miss her and think of her everyday, but wouldn’t trade a single memory to forgo the pain.