Today is the 1-year anniversary of when my best friend from high school passed away. What a horrible, horrible word - anniversary. It sounds like a celebration, and that is definitely not what I'm doing today. About a month ago I woke up one day from a dream she was in, and I couldn't get her out of my head for the rest of that weekend. I didn't know the date of her death at that point - this point in time last year is a complete blur. I remember when my mother called and told me of her death. I was in London, at an LAC meet. We had just arrived at the meet, I was still sitting in my car. Jeff and I were in separate cars, I'm not sure why. He walked over to my car and heard me gasp 'What do you mean she is dead'. What an absurd question. 'What do you mean she is dead'. Dead is dead. She is dead. I suppose that is a cold-hearted outlook on things, too. The next couple days are a blur as well. I remember going to the visitation on the Sunday. I called work and told them I couldn't be back to Whitby for Monday, and went to the funeral. [the people at the office were very understanding, and I love them all for it]. I stayed at Jeff's apartment each night, more or less because the cats offerred me some consolation, and I needed to be curled up in someone's arms. Taz helped me through this, more than anything. He explained death to me, he explained what probably happened to Jodi. We stayed up countless nights talking, consoling, crying, for hours and hours, probably till 4am most nights. I miss her. We had plans for last summer. We really lost touch after high school, she stayed in St. Thomas, and I moved to Waterloo. She also graduated 2 years before me, so I was still in high school classes and applying to university while she was graduating college. This time of year must be impossible for her family - I can't even imagine what they must be going through. My thoughts are with them - Brenda, Dave and Craig - I wish there was something I could do for them. Jodi loved me, and I hope she knows that I love her.