It has been nearly four and a half months since Jesika passed away. I need not tell you that the first month or so was just awful, but sometimes, even when you don’t see how it could, life goes on. You learn to compartmentalize, to put your grief somewhere safe so you can go about the business of living. Your loved one is never forgotten, but if the acute feelings of longing went on unchecked, we’d never be able to deal with the day to day. However, that grief is always lurking somewhere, ready to be unleashed, often in the most unexpected of ways.
Yesterday I got a text message from Jen, as I was singing along to my iTunes catalog while cleaning house. It read as follows:
“You’re going to think I’m crazy but I think I just saw Jesika in the background of an episode of the Rachel Zoe Project.”
This particular episode was filmed in the Fall of 2008, during New York Fashion Week. Jesika was a former resident of the Big Apple and a dedicated fashionista. Both Jen and I remembered that Jesika had attended Fashion Week at some point, but couldn’t be sure of the year. I picked up the phone to call Kevin, the only source I figured might be able to clear up the mystery.
I rambled quickly though the voicemail I left him, urgently and quickly relating the information I needed. Was Jesika at Fashion Week last year at this time or not? It was like all of the sudden I was a woman who had gone without water for weeks. I needed that drink of Jesika. If she had gone to Fashion Week, and had been in the background of that stupid reality show, then maybe, maybe I could see her again. Jesika would live forever on Hulu or something.
Once I realized I’d have to wait for an answer from Kevin and after trading a few more texts with Jen on the subject, I sat down….and cried like a little baby. Because I realized that I wouldn’t be satisfied once I knew the truth. If it wasn’t Jesika that Jen saw, than my glimmer of hope of getting another peek at her was extinguished. But even if it was, the first thing I want to do is call Jesika and taunt her for being on such a tired program (I giggle when Perez Hilton calls Zoe “Raisinface,” I admit it). I can’t do that.
The reality suddenly hit me in the chest, as it does from time to time. Jesika is gone. I can’t call her to good naturedly poke fun at her, as we both did over the years. I can’t call her for anything. Will that ever stop hurting?
I don’t have the answer. I have to move to another compartment now.