Yesterday Jeff Norton turned 57. He was not around to see it, but we all were. I dreamed about him again. I always am suffering so much grief in my dreams, yet he always seems so happy. It’s like my subconscious cannot handle the fact that he is gone.
Dec 14th his murderer goes in front of a judge…again. This has been dragging on for, well, since he confessed to killing Jeff over $25 last July. The date Jeff was found was July 18, but he had most likely been murdered on the 17th. Suddenly, I felt like I was in Criminal Minds, only it wasn’t a tv show, it was real. For weeks, even months afterwards I couldn’t watch the shows I liked so much, usually because someone ends up killed. And I still can’t watch anything with swords or knives. I have to leave the room.
We have a Facebook group where we remember him, chat about him, give one another support. I am an admin, but I feel so inadequate. There are people who knew him longer loved him longer than I did, and I cannot even imagine the anguish they feel, since I think about Jeff every day, and I dream about him almost every night.
I suppose it was the way in which he was taken that shakes me to the core, or the fact that I just took for granted he’d be around a while. It’s not a call you expect to get.
I love you Jeff Norton. I miss you so much. I hate that my husband will never meet you, that you’ll never see the work I produce. I hate that I am closer now to people than I was before because you died.
Happy Birthday, my mentor and my friend. I still have those images of dinners and parties and show indelibly marked on my brain. I stare at the picture of you teaching stage combat to the Three Musketeer cast. I think of you often. We’re better off for knowing you and worse off for no longer having you around.