On Christmas Eve in 1991, my friend Jill was in a car accident. Her boyfriend, Bill, was killed instantly because he wasn’t wearing a seat belt. Jill managed to hold on for another week in a morphine induced coma. She died 11 years ago today. I remember the first time I met her. We had the same gym class in middle school. Neither of us wanted to play floor hockey so we huddled on the sidelines for as long as we could. We talked about music. At the time, we were both into the whole metal scene. We were instant friends, I was new to the area and was having a hard time making friends but Jill changed all of that. She was my savior, she pulled me out of nerd hell and brought me into her world. There are so many things I could say about her but they still wouldn’t do her justice.

Entry from December 12:

Even after 11 years, I still miss her everyday. I think of all the things that might have been. How different my life would be had she not died. I think of her parents and how awful this time of year must be for them. I want to write them to tell them how special Jill was to me, how I will never forget her, and how my heart still aches. I just don’t know if I can. I don’t want to remind them though I know they will never forget. Part of me just wants them to know that Jill was special to me and that she’s not forgotten and part of me just says let it go don’t open those wounds. I think about how strong her Mom was at the hospital, how she comforted us while her daughter was dying and how she made us apart of everything. I remember finding out about the accident. I didn’t believe it. I ran through the house trying to avoid it. I called Jodi and couldn’t even talk. I slept with the paper beside my bed so when I woke up thinking it was a dream I would know it wasn’t. I remember going to the hospial seeing her hooked up to all the machines. Her parents explained what every machine was and its purpose. I remember her sister, Anna, calling me asking me to come back to the hospital because the pressure on Jill’s brain went down while I was in the room. I remember thinking there is no way she was going to die. I remember in her hospital room we would nervously crack jokes about how it was time to get up and that this was enough. I remember finding out she didn’t have any brainwaves so the doctors were going to unhook her from the machines. I remember walking through the front door and seeing my Dad and falling to my knees. I remember saying goodbye in the hospital. It was so awkward trying to find the right words to say. How do you really say goodbye to someone forever? At seventeen, I couldn’t even fathom the reality of what was happenening. As each year passes, the pain lessens but the emptiness is always there. Everytime I experience something new I think of how Jill never will…