Shane.

I've been thinking a lot about Shane lately. I guess it's getting to be that time of year again, so it's just looming on my mind. I've been anticipating a post for the anniversary of his death. I imagine that it will be eloquent and say all the right things, and I will feel relieved after it is written. But the closer it gets, the less sensible words I can come up with, so I'm gonna go ahead and write it now. It's gonna be raw and emotional and probably not anything anyone else will want to read or be able to understand, but here goes...

I can remember that day like it was yesterday. I was in Clarksville at a wedding shower in the ADPi house, visiting with friends, feeling as if all was right with the world. You see, I had been to visit Shane the day before and he was looking better than he had in the time he was at the hospital. They were sure that the worst was over, since he had made it through something most no one else survives. So I felt confident that I could go and do my own thing for a few hours, then head straight to the hospital afterwards, but I was wrong. I remember looking at my phone that had been in my purse during the party and seeing that mom had called and left a voicemail. Also, Dad had called. As I was listening to the voicemail standing in the kitchen next to Nicole, I noticed that Dad was calling her now. I immediately knew that something was wrong and started to panic. God Bless Nicole. The poor thing had to deliver the bad news to me and then deal with me as I waited for Daddy to come pick me up to get to the hospital where the rest of my family was waiting. This kind of news is something a best friend should never have to share, but she did and was there for me as I cried and I'll never forget her for that.

The ride from Clarksville to St. Thomas seemed to go by in a flash. I just sat there, stunned, and waiting for reality to set in. The hospital was a blur. I remember being there, seeing him or what was left of him, and wanting a cigarette like I wanted my life--this last desire continued until after we buried him. We finally went home to Aunt Deana and his house where we were greeted by an outpouring of supportive friends and community members. Lots of kids came to be there for Treavor and Whitley. I remember booking Josh's plane home from Cleveland and wishing he could be there sooner. And that's about it for that day. I'm sure there was a lot more to it, but that's all I got.

Monday held shopping for Treavor and I. Thank God for Cynthia Elder, who found the two of us staring into a wall full of men's shirts, neither knowing how the heck to choose. She helped us find the right one, then pants, and of course shared a sweet word with us like she always does. We made a few other stops, then I guess we headed home. I don't really remember much else from that day though. While Treav and I were gone, they made the arrangements I guess. We'd be there Tuesday pretty much all day and the funeral on Wednesday. I guess it was on this day that Aunt Deana asked me to sing at the funeral. I wish now more than anything that I could/would have done it. Shane did so much for me, singing a hymn at the funeral was the least I could do for him. But I couldn't do it, I decided to read instead.

From the time word got out on Sunday until weeks after we buried him, our family received so many nice words about Shane. He ran a website about Greenbrier football, and there was an outpouring of sympathy and prayers and everything you could imagine from members of our community and so many others. I think this is a true testament to the man that he was. Somebody that really touched so many.

Tuesday came and went. We spent a lot of the day at the funeral home, or so it seemed. Josh finally made it in, trademark black eye and all, and it was the first time we could all be together as a complete family. That was the only thing I wanted then. My whole family. Right there with us. If we could have all slept in the same room, all gazillion of us, I would have been just fine with that. It was like I didn't want to let any of them out of my sight cause I was afraid I would miss something with them like I had with Shane.

D-Day was finally upon us on Wednesday. With the help of Buddy the Elf and certainly the watching hand of Shane and God, I said a few things and read some particularly nice posts we found on various websites. Anyone that knows me knows that I've never had any trouble speaking--about anything. But I was really beyond nervous to speak then. I wanted to convey the love I had for Shane without being a mess standing in front of hundreds of people. It was a little shaky at first, but I made it through and am so glad I got that chance. The grave side was probably the worst part for me. Up until then, Shane was still "there" meaning, I could still look at him. I could see his face and put Buddy in his pocket and pretend he was still there. Putting him in the ground, though, meant that it was really over. That it was all really happening and that pretty soon he would really, really be gone. Ugh. It was absolutely terrible.

Like I said at the service, Shane was the best man. He took an interest in so many kids that he didn't have to, including me. I was 18 when he and my aunt started dating. Most men wouldn't take in some 18 year old kid to go on date nights and spend every Friday night with and take on trips or to concerts or do any of the things he did with me. But Shane did, like it was natural, like it was the only normal thing to do. And for that I'll always love him. He was good to me, good to my family, and good to my aunt. I find myself thinking that Shane would love that or that I sure do wish he was here for this. I know that he hates missing all these times as much as we miss him here.

Anyway, that's that. I hope it's somewhat readable and understandable. If it's not, the main point is that I miss him. I love him. And I wish he was still here.