Bittersweet

Did your grade school do Leprechaun traps as a project around St. Patrick's Day? Mine did, and I even did them with my Pre-K kids last year.  That used to be the most significant thing about St. Patrick's Day in my mind. Not anymore.

Now, St. Patrick's Day has two very large, very important memories attached to it. Which makes today very bittersweet.

After the Chris Tomlin concert Nov. 2011

You see, on St. Patrick's Day 5 years ago, Jerome got down on his knee and asked my the Question. The one that changes your whole life. Obviously, I said yes. We were celebrating our 2nd anniversary by doing dinner at the Top of the Riverfront, a rotating restaurant downtown on top of the Millenium Hotel. Then we went to the Arch grounds for a walk and he asked me to be his wife. (For those of you doing the math, we've been together for 7 years.) He's my best friend, and an incredibly Godly man, and I am so blessed to have him in my life.

From J's aunt's Facebook page.

But, also on St. Patrick's Day, 4 years ago (a year into our engagement), Jerome's cousin committed suicide. We were blindsided. He and Jerome were like best friends. They had begun sharing an apartment together, and David was to be a groomsman in our wedding. But even though they lived together, we didn't see any of the typical warning signs. No depression, no giving away of prized possessions, nothing. He was headed out to a friend's diaper poker party with brownies and Jello shots on Sunday and dead the next morning. He was smart. He was funny. He was kind. And we miss him.