Dear Terri,
I know this is not a note you'll actually see, but I wanted to tell you what has been going on. If you were here, I'd definitely be talking to you a lot.
Things have been really hard since you died. We're all struggling, trying to understand, questioning ourselves and all sorts of things. But you'd be really happy to see how we're all also trying to comfort one another.
I can hear your voice saying, "Jen, Jen, it will be all right." in that big sister sort of way you'd say things to me.
I want to tell you not to go, not to give up.
Remember how sometimes we'd talk about growing old and the girls growing up? You're going to miss all of that and I'm just devastated.
I know you loved me and that we shared something special. But I'm also seeing that you talked to everyone about so many of the same things, and it is making me sad to see you just weren't fulfilled; it seems like it was never enough to really make you be at peace. I just don't understand why you weren't secure in all of the amazing abilities you had and all the friends you had. I don't understand why the darkness swallowed you up and that you are gone now.
I'm trying to comfort our friends. I've even gotten to comfort people who knew you earlier but lost touch. I am not sure what you would say to see me holding someone sobbing that you are gone. It is so tragic, especially when they know I'm hurting more...
But that is what we do. That is what you would do, too.
We got together last night, for the first time. I started to text you to invite you. All I can do is cry out to God and ask for His help.
Last night I could be so confident in God's sovereignty. Jeff and the girls gave me Bible verses to share and everyone got one to read. Donna and I prayed aloud for us all.
We're all hurting so much, Terri. I believe God's timing is right. I believe He called you home. I believe there aren't mistakes. But I just want to know why I couldn't stop you. I want to know why none of us could. I want to tell you don't go. It's going to get better.
But it is too late. And you wouldn't have listened. And I have to believe that. We all do.
I didn't cry a lot yesterday. Sunday's sermon was so good and helped me a lot. Then the little memorial service where you died was a blessing to me to see how nice of a place it was.
I'm going to try to talk to Donna now.
I love you,
I know this is not a note you'll actually see, but I wanted to tell you what has been going on. If you were here, I'd definitely be talking to you a lot.
Things have been really hard since you died. We're all struggling, trying to understand, questioning ourselves and all sorts of things. But you'd be really happy to see how we're all also trying to comfort one another.
I can hear your voice saying, "Jen, Jen, it will be all right." in that big sister sort of way you'd say things to me.
I want to tell you not to go, not to give up.
Remember how sometimes we'd talk about growing old and the girls growing up? You're going to miss all of that and I'm just devastated.
I know you loved me and that we shared something special. But I'm also seeing that you talked to everyone about so many of the same things, and it is making me sad to see you just weren't fulfilled; it seems like it was never enough to really make you be at peace. I just don't understand why you weren't secure in all of the amazing abilities you had and all the friends you had. I don't understand why the darkness swallowed you up and that you are gone now.
I'm trying to comfort our friends. I've even gotten to comfort people who knew you earlier but lost touch. I am not sure what you would say to see me holding someone sobbing that you are gone. It is so tragic, especially when they know I'm hurting more...
But that is what we do. That is what you would do, too.
We got together last night, for the first time. I started to text you to invite you. All I can do is cry out to God and ask for His help.
Last night I could be so confident in God's sovereignty. Jeff and the girls gave me Bible verses to share and everyone got one to read. Donna and I prayed aloud for us all.
We're all hurting so much, Terri. I believe God's timing is right. I believe He called you home. I believe there aren't mistakes. But I just want to know why I couldn't stop you. I want to know why none of us could. I want to tell you don't go. It's going to get better.
But it is too late. And you wouldn't have listened. And I have to believe that. We all do.
I didn't cry a lot yesterday. Sunday's sermon was so good and helped me a lot. Then the little memorial service where you died was a blessing to me to see how nice of a place it was.
I'm going to try to talk to Donna now.
I love you,
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