My Mel...

"Lobster?!" "I want my doll!" "LEVEL 20!" "That ain't no house..." "You'll always be my firstborn."

I know...those phrases don't mean a thing to anybody else, but they mean the world to me. Melanie and I had a million inside jokes...I guess that's just what sisters do. We were so different, yet seemed to know exactly what the other was thinking at any given time. Just a look would do it and we'd both crack up laughing.

Christmas 2004...we were all at Mom and Dad's house. Keith and Debbie in the sunroom. Franklin and Paige in my bedroom. Mel and Paul in the back bedroom. The kids sleeping in the basement. Then...there's me. I always got the couch. Most everybody was in the bed and I was about to pass out. Melanie (being the night owl she was) was still up watching television. On her way to bed, she stopped by the couch, knelt down by the couch, grabbed my hands, looked at me very intently and said with tears in her eyes, "Let me tell you something...you will always be my firstborn. I did everything but give birth to you. I Love you more than you'll ever understand and you make me so proud."

There are moments that seem to freeze in time...moments that will forever be etched in one's memory. I will never forget that moment. I'll never forget the look in her eyes, the way she was holding my hands, the intensity of her words...I could feel her heart. Through the tears in my eyes, I memorized her face...her eyes...

Melanie couldn't have children. She and Paul tried for years...tried everything. She and I even talked about me being a surrogate mother...and we were both extremely serious about it. Being 13 years older than me, she always "mothered" me...and she was always the one I went to for everything. She was the family mediator..."the boss." She started and ended conversations...always had the last word. ;-) She was the typical "oldest child"...and was the best at it. None of us ever fell through the cracks. Me, Keith, and Franklin...we were right under her wing. She would have it no other way.

When someone's missing a body part, it's obvious. It's very visible that a part of them isn't there. Probably a horrible analogy, but it's the best I've got...a large part of me has been gone for four years. It wasn't something I expected...not something I was prepared for. In a heartbeat, our whole world changed. Time definitely makes it more manageable, but it doesn't make the emotional and physical hurt go away. I'll never be 100% again...

I've struggled the past four years with a few things. When someone asks how many brothers and sisters I have...what do I say? Not too long ago, someone asked how Melanie was doing. What's the best way to handle that and not bust into tears? Is it okay to tell stories about her, to talk about things she taught me, to mention her in conversation? Is it bad that it's still difficult to refer to her in past tense...or that I still say, "The day everything happened" or "When we lost Melanie..." Is it bad that four years have passed and it gets more difficult as time goes by?

My parents work on the Emmaus Walk...coming back from one today. Before they left, my Mom called me and said one of the ladies that would be at her table had a daughter who passed away suddenly in March. I asked her if she was okay with that...if she would be okay handling that situation. She said, "Absolutely. I'm absolutely fine in being able to Minister to her. I know how the Lord has given me strength and I'm absolutely happy to share that with another who has experienced such a loss." Her response really didn't surprise me at all. I've seen the true strength of a mother through her these past years. She worked on an Emmaus Walk about three months after losing Melanie and did the same thing...Ministered to a lady who had just lost her child. My mother...her strength never ceases to amaze me.

Been through a lot these past four years...emotionally and physically. The world has changed a lot since 2005. I would give anything to know what her brilliant and outspoken mind would be thinking and saying about all these changes. She would be on the edge of her seat waiting to talk some politics and put people in their place. She'd be sick of Rush, hating some FOX News, and probably diggin' some Obama.

To those around me a lot...I'm sorry if I bore you with Melanie stories (although...there was absolutely nothing about her that was boring). She's just a part of who I am...always will be. She helped shape and form me for 29 years...my sister, second mother, mentor, best friend, and hero.

I don't understand why we lost Melanie. I've never seen--and may never see--one good thing that has come from it. I've gone through different seasons of grief...maybe I always will. I'm not sure. I do, however, know I've experienced our Father in a completely different way. I was very hurt and angry at God for a time after losing her, but I never doubted my Faith...I just found Him in a new way.

Losing Melanie was the defining moment in my life. I'm choosing to move forward in my Faith...and taking her with me. No one...absolutely no one...will ever come close to her in my eyes. I didn't deserve her...the world didn't deserve her. I'm excited knowing I will be with her again...forever. I'm homesick now more than ever.

I Love you, Mel...