It has been a year since my best friend took her own life.
Sometimes, I still hear her laugh and desperately look around, trying to find her location. I have dreams, where she comes to me, and we hold hands and sit by the lake.
I still think about her every day.
Over the past year, I have felt angry. I have felt guilty. I have felt sad.
But at some point, I realized that I didn’t want to remember her by her suicide. I wanted to remember her by her smile and our memories.
So instead of feeling angry, I laugh at jokes that I remember in the quiet of the morning. Instead of feeling guilty, I smile when I think of our euphoric moments.
And I cry when I miss her.
She was special. And no one will ever take her place. And I will tell my children about her. Because she taught me to appreciate every beautiful moment I have in this life and to appreciate the hardships, too. And even though a year has passed, I still remember the good things we shared.
And I will always remember our last conversation.
“Caroline? I love you.”
“And I love you too.”
And after a year, I still feel her love.
Written by Taryn Gawronski about Caroline Phelan-Jones.