Twenty years is a long time. But somehow, the death of Pope John Paul II isn't easy for me to place on a timeline. History is elastic when we don't read it in books. The events we remember can feel close and distant all at once.

Grave markers always list a person's lifespan by dates. But for me, John Paul II didn't die on April 2, 2005. He went to the Father's house on the Vigil of Divine Mercy, a feast he sponsored and promulgated throughout the church. In many ways, it was the perfect liturgical expression of his pontificate.

Pope John Paul's faith was vibrant and attractive. As a result, he brought many of us into the church or back to her. I am convinced that if Karol Wojtyla had not been elected pope during my senior year of high school, I would never have become Catholic. I already loved Jesus, but John Paul made me fall in love with the church.

Like most people, I loved and respected Pope Benedict XVI and regard Pope Francis with affection. It's just that John Paul II is etched into my heart the way no other pope could be. His dramatic baritone voice still lingers in my memory. His compassionate eyes and fatherly smile remain with me, springing to life whenever he is mentioned.

I never met Pope John Paul and didn't have the privilege of knowing him. But it always felt like he knew me. He understood the struggles I faced, the difficulties I encountered, and the fears that held me back. He knew that even very active Catholics needed to be reassured that Jesus was the answer we were searching for and that he would never abandon us. He realized that my generation needed someone to show us the beauty of holiness and the power of sacrificial self-gift. And he also recognized that what he taught in strength and vigor could be sealed only by suffering well, that is, with both love and purpose.

The Holy Father's decline was public, visible, and sad. For anyone who had seen him hiking or skiing down mountain slopes, the progression was painful to watch -- difficulty walking, tremors, slurred speech, rigid face. He insisted that weakness and suffering was part of his ministry to the church and to the world. Many suggested that, under the circumstances, resignation was the best option. Pope John Paul II did not agree. Instead, he soldiered on, maintaining travel plans and a rigorous schedule as much as possible.

The first time I saw John Paul II was Oct. 1, 1979, on Boston Common. The last time was at the Wednesday audience during the October 2000 Jubilee for Families in Rome. Physically, he was not the same man. In every other respect, however, nothing had changed. If anything, he was more luminous than ever.

I wasn't under the Papal Apartment window when John Paul was unable to speak to the crowds just a few days before he died. I wasn't in St. Peter's Square on the evening of April 2 or among the 2 million mourners who filed past his body. But everything everywhere seemed to change with his passing. It took a very long time for me to stop bristling when someone else's name was proclaimed at Mass during the Eucharistic Prayer.

I'm sure that the years of Pope John Paul II's pontificate will always remind me of when I was younger. But nostalgia is not the whole of it. In those years, the church itself enjoyed a kind of dynamism. Catholics were filled with hope and promise, and a youthful optimism about the future. Joy was as tangible as mercy. And we all knew we needed both.

John Paul II, I still miss you. And as I observe the passing of these 20 years without you at the helm of the church, I will pray that your example enflames those of us who witnessed it once again. Pray for us, Holy Father, that we may no longer be afraid, that we will open wide the doors to Christ, that we may learn to suffer well, and that we may one day come to join you in the Father's house.



- Jaymie Stuart Wolfe is a Catholic convert, wife, and mother of eight. Inspired by the spirituality of St. Francis de Sales, she is an author, speaker, and musician, and provides freelance editorial services to numerous publishers and authors as the principal of One More Basket. Find Jaymie on Facebook or follow her on Twitter @YouFeedThem.