Almost a Year

It's been almost a year since her 24th birthday.
Almost a year since kids laughed at her goofy dance moves.
Almost a year since her booming voice resonated with those around her.
Almost a year since she told a dirty joke.
Almost a year since she hugged a friend.
Almost a year since she kissed a boo-boo.
Almost a year since she called someone out for poor life choices.
Almost a year since her mother heard her voice.
Almost a year since she motivated friends to greatness.
Almost a year since I got an encouraging text from her.
Almost a year and it still hurts.

My dad told me a quote yesterday that really resonated with me: "Without a hurt, a heart feels hollow."

This particular hurt has been with me for almost a year now. And although the hurt has eased up a bit, she's still with me; especially with the anniversary just around the corner. It's crazy to think what Chantel would be doing now. She would've graduated from college, been a nurse, living hard and loving even harder. She'd be sprinting to her 25th birthday, embracing the landmark year and looking fabulous. It's even crazier to think of what she'd be saying to me.

Chantel was such a spit fire. She and I got along so well because we balanced each other out: she didn't take crap from anyone and I taught her patience. Between the two of us, we grew and learned a lot from one another. She was 5'0" but had the personality of a giant. She had opinions and wasn't afraid to let them be known to anyone at any volume. But she loved hard too. Oh, did she love.

The kids were everything to her. She was in charge of the older girls and it was obvious how much they looked up to her. They idolized her tenacity, her courage, her humor and her ability to talk to men like they were nothing to be afraid of. Who are we kidding? I envied her ability to do that as well.

We would probably be laughing and crying; two things we were very good at. We would probably be having a deep conversation about our dreams or goals or dumb decisions with men. She'd always tell me, usually with tears in her eyes, "Katie, you are the nicest person I have ever met and I am willing to butcher any man who takes advantage of your kindness." But that was Chantel, a sweet compliment with a side of irreverence. I truly loved her as a friend and try to carry some of her spunk with me. Whenever I feel on the verge of being a doormat to others, I think of her and what she would be yelling at me.

I can't believe she's been gone for a almost a year. I can't believe the hurt is still there, under 365 days of life since her death. But, I guess that hurt serves as an incredible reminder that my heart isn't hollow and will never be as long as I carry her tenacious spirit with me. I love and miss you today and every day, Channy, thank you for the life you lived and the spirit you left behind.

3/16/1988 - 3/17/2012