You did an extortionary thing. You were a 10-year-old raising a 6-year-old. Neither of us knew what was happening in our lives, except that it was crumbling around us. Our parents, they weren’t there; they didn’t see us. They didn’t see what their fighting did to us, did to you. Their divorce impacted you more than it did me. You had 4 years on me; you saw them happy; you saw them in love. I never did. I know that their fighting destroyed you; it killed you inside. You had no clue what was happening or how to fix it. Since you couldn’t fix them, you tried to protect me. I think that your biggest fear in life was having to watch me go through what our parents went through and not be able to do anything. You needed to be able to fix something, so you decided that you would never have to fix me if you gave me enough ammunition to protect myself. You told me that, “Sometimes people just fall out of love. It’s not your fault, it’s just what happens with grown-ups.”

It was always you and me against the world. You made sure that I was raised right, that I ate breakfast and got to school on time. You helped me with my homework and made sure that I was OK; And I was, because of you. You took all the heat; you did everything in your power to make sure that I had a better life than you did. You made sure that everyone knew I was your little sister and if they messed with me, they messed with you too. And if there was one person no one wanted to cross, it was you. Even when you were fighting overseas in Afghanistan, you were still looking out for me. You were literally getting shot at and blown up — you had the scars to prove it — but you still had people telling you what was going on in my life.

You taught me just about everything I know. Because of you I can read, and write, and speak the most basic Spanish sentences. I can ride a bike and a skateboard, and play the bass. I know how to throw a spiral and hit a home run. I can assemble a gun in under a minute, depending on the gun, I can put a leach on a hook and gut a deer. I can knock back a few beers and hustle the best of them out of their money at the pool table. I also have a wicked right hook because, “Every girl should know how to defend herself.” I agree with you: more women should know how to fight. It’s gotten me out of a couple things and gotten me into some as well.

You taught me that you always stick up for your family and friends, even if they’re wrong, even if it gets you suspended. Sorry about that by the way. You taught me that there are good people out there, and that kindness will get you just about anywhere. You had the biggest heart out of all of us. To this day when I walk or drive past someone who needs help, I always think: he would have stopped. He would have helped them. Out of the two of us, you were always the better person.

You were always bigger than life to me. You’re my hero. That’s something I’ve never told you, and never will now. It’s been 3 years since you died. I still look for you when I walk into the house — the "house" because without you, it’s not a home.

So, thank you. Thank you for everything you gave me. I wouldn’t be the person I am today without you. You shaped me into the strong, fearless (I have the scars to prove it), independent, stubborn and kindhearted woman I am today.

I just hope I’ve made you proud.