Remembering Stacie

Today she should have turned 40. It's hard to imagine or believe.

But to me, she'll forever be 21.

Stacie was taken away from us far too young.... gone in the blink of an eye by the careless act of a drunk driver. The sadness never goes away. Life moves on, people come and go, but no one will ever take her place to me.

I try to picture what she would have been like, what our relationship would have been now. I see her with soft wrinkles on her face, around her eyes. A touch of gray perhaps in her hair. I can still hear her laugh. I like to think of her raising her two daughters she spoke about when we were little girls. I'm sure we would be friends on Facebook. And when I traveled on business, I'd be sure to stop in and visit her, wherever she ended up.

Her memory makes me smile. Picturing her life and all that it could have been gives me a sad satisfaction, a bit of peace.

Normally Kim and I take a pilgrimage up the east coast of Maine, driving down Rt 1, spotting the occasional moose and the all too frequent (and too slow) tourists making their way through the picturesque towns that dot the coast. We would come upon the cemetery, finding her head stone, and sit and talk with her awhile. We'd clean off her grave and sit and marvel at the silence and peace of the location. Tears don't come as frequently, but the pain is not gone. This year, I could not make the trip, but soon I will take that drive once again.

I use her birthday as a reminder. I used to be so angry that I lived and she died. It didn't seem right. It didn't seem fair. She had so much to live for. But now I try to use that anger to motivate me to be a better person. To appreciate every minute I've been given, because it truly is a gift. And just like that, it can be taken away. With no warning.

I love you and miss you Stacie... rest in peace.