They say that sound is the first memory to go. But I don’t find that to be true, because even after five years I can still hear your laugh when I close my eyes. I think that’s because I have six years of memories to go to. In comparison to how long I knew you to how long you’ve been gone, I’m almost breaking even and that’s honestly really hard for me to believe.
It's funny really that the anniversary of your death isn’t the hardest day for me. It’s your birthday.
I think it’s because with each year I grow older, I feel like you should too; I feel like the day you made the world a little brighter should be celebrated. So through my tears, I quietly sing Happy Birthday to you every February 20.
The day I learned you’d gone home to Heaven, I think I lost my mind. I know for certain I lost a part of myself. How was I not supposed to? You were my best friend. I loved growing up with you. I loved having you as my best friend to navigate through those rough preteen and teenage years. You see, a lot of people go three-fourths of their lives before losing someone close to them. I was 16 when you died and although I had been through some hard times prior, nothing could have prepared me for that moment.
But if I learned anything from your passing, it was that God sure works in mysterious ways. I have more to thank you for than you realize. You taught me so much in those six years … but I learned more about life in your death than I bargained for. I was forced to truly understand that tomorrow is not promised. I had to start cherishing each day and the memories that come with them. I made myself start taking more pictures and spreading more joy.
But no matter what silver linings I find, it doesn’t hide the very simple fact that I miss you.
I miss you every single day. Some days I break down because I can’t call you for advice or to vent. I just wish we could have one more sleepover that involves climbing silos and coon hunting.
I hope I make you proud. I hope that the successes I’ve had and the choices I’ve made would make you proud to stand beside me and be my friend.
I’m sorry for the stupid fights we had. We were as close as sisters and we fought like them too. But we always knew we would be fine at the end of the day. Regardless, I’m sorry they happened at all.
I can’t wait to see you again. I’m so excited for the day I get to walk through the pearly gates and hear you say “it took you long enough.” We’ll pick up where we left off and I’d really like you to introduce me to Jonah because I want to ask him about the whole living-in-a-whale’s-belly thing.
Our pictures are still in my room. I still use the makeup bag you gave me for my 16th birthday. I still think your first name is beautiful and I’m going to give it to my daughter just like I told you I would when we were 11. I’m so thankful the last thing I said to you was “I love you.”
So as the fifth anniversary of your passing comes and your 22nd birthday rolls around, I’ll continue to love you, sing you Happy Birthday, love on your beautiful little sisters that look just like you, and thank God I got the six years I had because there’s not one single second I’d trade (except maybe the time we fought over the red Starbursts. Those were some knock-down drag-outs, Haha).
