One year ago today, my friend Julie died. She was 26, a 2nd year poetry student to my 3rd year non-fiction status. She was my co-worker and my friend. I have thought about her a lot this past year, the way that she only used jars to transport foods, even and especially liquids, and the ways that she would scrounge rubbish from the trash if it seemed like it might one day be recyclable.
Every time I plant a bulb in my garden, and now when I watch them bloom, I think about her. I think about her and her bee stings as I put local honey in my tea. "This could have been the bee..."
It's still incomprehensible to me that someone my age could die. I think that's why her death affected me most: it brought a huge wave of mortality into my world.
Today, I want to honor her and think about her and say it is a beautiful day. She would be out enjoying it on a bicycle, wearing very little clothing and a pair of ratty canvas sneakers with the pinky toes peeping out. She would probably pat my belly and smile about Baby Love.
I miss her.