1983 was the year my family pulled up their southern California stakes and moved north, to a tiny town in the Yosemite foothills. I was 5 years old and painfully shy. Pale, freckled and a social klutz. I showed up to my first day of school only to find out I was one of three Kimberly's. (Thank you, I'll just blend into the wallpaper now.)
Jeremy was my very first friend in 1st grade. His outgoing enigmatic personality drew me in and hooked me for life. He was funny and took risks I couldn't dream of. I was in awe.
During our formative years, I remained on the outside of what could be called the popular crowd, the crowd Jeremy belonged to. But he didn't care. No matter who he was with or where he was going, Jeremy would throw one of his famous smiles my way and maybe a wave. I never got the chance to tell him how much that meant to me.
On July 4, 2006, Jeremy passed away in a tragic accidental drowning at a local lake.
As I sit here, writing this to you, I'm in tears. For the life that is lost, the pain his wife and son must be enduring and my own sadness. Jeremy lived every minute of his life with the glass half full. No matter how corny that sounds, it's true. I don't believe he wasted a minute because his heart was in everything he did. Jeremy went on to huge big things, a career he loved and was recognized for. And he stayed humble. And he stayed in his hometown, close to his roots. Jeremy did more amazing things and experienced more in his 29 years than most people ever do in 75.
Jeremy's memorial service was yesterday in the church that I grew up in, in the community I'm still not comfortable with. Over 1000 people attended to pay their respects. During the service, after a few people spoke through their own tears with stories that made us laugh, after the pastor finished with words of comfort, a slide show was played. And there was this picture that popped up on the screen, a picture that I had spent a good portion of Monday night looking for at my house. The picture was of Jeremy, his best friend, me and my best friend at the time. Just us grinning at the camera. I think we were all 20ish and hanging out. What shocked me the most about seeing this picture on the screen was the fact that Jeremy had a copy of that photo all these years.
The reason I share all this with you... well, because Jeremy's death seems to be my breaking point. Life is too short to be miserable. Live every minute of every day and go out without regret. His death hit me in a way I didn't think existed. Growing up in a small town, where everyone knows everyone's business and accepts it, where we share in everyone's successes and failures... it's the largest extended family I've ever known.
Losing Jeremy hurts... and I'm on the outside. I can't even pretend to understand how his best friends feel that knew him longer than I did. My heart aches for them though.
And for his love of 13 years, wife for the last two, my heart aches for her. I remember when their story began. Their little boy, Jayden, who's only three... his father will be relived through the memories of those that loved Jeremy for all of Jayden's life.
To Jeremy, may you ride the hills of heaven for all eternity.
A benefit concert will be held this Saturday. All proceeds go to his wife and son.
Oh, Kim - I am so sorry to read this. I hope you share this with his family - while I understand what you mean about the inside/outside thing, all I could think while reading this was that you WERE/ARE on the inside if you learned this much from him. Sending you hugs and pink light.
Posted by: wenders | July 13, 2006 at 06:16 AM
Very sorry to hear of your friends passing. I had a similar situation occur last summer so I know how you're feeling. It sounds like JC made a difference while he was here.
Posted by: Carrie | July 13, 2006 at 06:42 AM
I'm so sorry for your loss. I hope your days only get brighter.
((((hugs HUGS hugs))))
Posted by: Golden121 | July 13, 2006 at 08:23 AM
I'm so sorry. =( Why does it seem like all the really amazing people pass away when they're still so young...
Posted by: Tiffany | July 13, 2006 at 01:29 PM
Kim! ((Hugs!!)) I know you can use a few right now! Please take care!
Posted by: Zonda | July 13, 2006 at 09:21 PM
Isn't it astonishing to be awakend by our pain to how much someone or something meant to us. Your vow to live deeply, and express what people mean to you will serve you well and carry you through this and other challenges. Pink light from here, too.
Posted by: Knitting Painter Woman | July 14, 2006 at 11:13 PM
It's so difficult for those of us on the outside of this to know what to say, especially since we only know you through your blog.
My deepest sympathy to you & his family. I hate how someone's death has to remind us how precious life is & to live each moment as if it is our last.
BIG HUGS!!
Posted by: ~Kristie | July 15, 2006 at 12:50 PM
I'm so, so sorry. I'm more familiar with grief than I ever thought I'd be. It's always hard when it's someone so young, vibrant and GOOD that's taken. Hugs to you.
XXX
Posted by: Annie | July 20, 2006 at 04:49 PM