A couple of days before Amber's accident see came to Arkansas (where I was living at the time) and started texting me on the way there.
While in Memphis, Amber: "I sure wish I had a thrift store shopping partner today"
one of our favorite things to do was thrift store shop. i stumbled upon in high school and feel in love. it became mine and her therapy. when she or i would have a bad day we would hop in the jeep and head for midtown. we could spend hours and not buy a thing and just enjoy the time we had together. later after she went off to mtsu, she would always bring me stuff home from the thrift stores up there. she had it down to an art.
We talked a little about church and she told they were crossing the bridge into Arkansas. She expressed to me how bored she was and started talking about dinner. I asked here what she was hungry for.
Amber: "Mexican, seafood, a good salad. I dont really care"
If thrift store shopping was our hobby, eating was our occupation. Its what we did, it was who we were. The question wasnt are we going out to eat, but where. How could we ever forget those meals. Salmon at J Alexanders, a salad at McCalisters, some good Mexican food. Even something like a meal together can become a memory that lasts forever. I just wish I could continually remind myself that I ever I time I sit down for dinner.
We talked about Gadge. About dinner. About "his jenny".
Those last couple of days were so incredible. They were fun, stupid, we went antique shopping for rocking chairs, thrift store shopping, platos closet, ate some good meals, watched some tv, played in the backyard with the puppy dogs, walked around and talked about life, talked about relationships and the future. Its so weird. We had one of those big brother, little sister moments right before she left about what she wanted in life. Never once did it cross my mind that I would be hugging her for the last time.
Its time to get rid of the phone. Sometimes its hard, but necessary, to let go of grieving stuff but that doesn't mean that the memories are gone. Its so hard to clean out that closet or even to walk in the attic. But what are we really holding on to? Amber isnt a text message or an old shirt, but thats what its seems like she became.
Hold on to the right things.