Friday, April 11, 2014


The first few years it was hard to write anything at all... writing was apart of me, it was a piece of who I was. There was a point where I was convinced that part would forever be gone. ...Now I have only been able to get it back on the worst month of the year. And I'm only ever able to write about devastation and loss. I'm only ever able to write about the single thing forever leaving a hole in my heart.

I hate the month of April. From the very first day of it, until the last. My heart gets heavy, and invades the inside of my chest until it feels like I can no longer breathe. ...And then it shatters. It shatters into a million pieces and each shard cuts the wounds and hurts and pains that are hidden within the depths of me until it's all I can do but cry. Usually alone... at 3:00 in the morning, locked in the car, listening to some dumb song my sister would of annoyingly played on repeat until I wanted to rip my ears off my head. Or alone, on the couch, in my living room, long after the rest of my perfect little family has fallen fast asleep, watching My Sisters Keeper and hating the fact that sisters can't always stay with you forever. And once all the little shards of my heart are buried so deep in my pain, they all gather back together and the swelling and heaviness starts all over.

All. Month. Long.

And 18 days into the month I'll go to bed pretending I don't know what tomorrow is, until it comes. ...Until I'm lying there playing the whole horrible day over and over in my mind. 8 years. In just a week it'll be 8 years and still every detail is so vivid. So painfully vivid. I can still feel the rocks from the dirt digging into my legs when I fell to the ground. I still remember the way the voices around me became mumbled and low, the way the world slowly faded away and all I could do was picture my beautiful little sisters face from the last time I seen her. I remember being carried to the car, the long ride home, and opening the house door to find my mothers face and becoming weak all over again.

Every year, on that day, it is so incredibly hard to get up. It's so hard to remember anything beautiful and wonderful about my sister because all I can think about is her absence. All I can think about is the couch that sucked me in and the pillow that caught all my tears, and the funeral home, and the casket... and all our friends and family trying so hard to find the words to say to make us smile if only but for a brief moment. I remember the day she was taken from me more then I can remember her laughter. I can remember the pain I felt in that single moment more then I can remember her arms wrapped around me from that one last hug the last time I seen her...

Its coming. The worst day of the year is creeping in and I can't stop it. I know how its going to be... how its going to feel... and I can't change it. And no matter how many things I pack into my day to keep my mind off of it, around every corner where there's silence or every second where I'm trapped alone, it'll be there. Waiting for me. I can already feel the walls caving in around me...

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

As though they were never gone...

In two and a half weeks it will be the seventh anniversary of my sisters death.
Seven. Years.
For seven years, I've been constantly asking myself how I was able to manage to make it so far without her. ...Today I realized I haven't.

When you lose someone that's a piece of you... when a hole in your heart gets torn out because part of your world has ended... all you can think about is how they're gone. Life goes on and happy things happen, but you always end up to the conclusion that it's not fair. My husband should of had a sister-in-law. My nephew/son should have his mom and my kids should of had an aunt. My brothers and I should have our sister. My parents should have their daughter. Today I realized that we DO have her.

When you lose someone, people often tell you that they're not really gone as long as they live within your heart. This is not entirely true. I carry my sister within my heart, every single moment of every single day, but it's not because of just that that she lives on. Today I realized how often she shows up because it's not just my heart she still lives in.

Sometimes I'll find a picture, or someone will send me one that they've found, of her beautiful smile. ...Or one of her ridiculous faces, and I find myself discovering that piece of her all over again.
Sometimes I'll say something and someone will smile and laugh because a single word that I said reminded them of a memory with my sister in it. One that I haven't heard, or have forgotten about, and I find myself discovering a piece of her I hadn't known.
And then there are other times when I'll meet a stranger, who wasn't really a stranger at all. A stranger who just so happens to be missing that part of Monique that should still be in their lives. ...And then I get to hear all about who she was to them. ...And I find myself discovering more of her that I never even knew was there.

When you lose someone... everyone loses them. Before I lost my sister, I never knew what to say at funerals, to loved ones. After I lost her, I thought that would change. Instead, I just realized there really isn't anything you can say. Some people say that it gets easier. Whoever said that is a liar who has never known what it's like to lose part of their heart. It doesn't get easier. It never will. But one thing that I have learned that you can do, is to share. Tell a story. Show a picture. That's how they live on. That's how she lives on. And for those few split moments, they leave your heart and enter the room as though they were never gone.

Friday, November 2, 2012

RockStar Baby

You were a rockstar baby. Now you're gone with the wind. Fell so hard. So fast. How am I suppose to deal with this? I'm a mess trying to keep up a face that doesn't reflect what it feels like to have you not here with me. It's a hard realization to know all our memories will forever be history.

I hate sisters. They remind me of the part of me thats lost. The one, single part I'm afraid I'll forget. They say time heals all wounds and with time it gets easier. I'm only finding it's easier because it's getting harder to remember. A picture is worth a thousand words and holds tightly a distant memory. But for how long can a picture be your remedy.

I have memories that are fading fast. The ones without pictures, I'm finding it hard to make them last. How do I bring back the sweet sound of laughter and be able to hold it close so I'll never forget it after? Memories that are there remind me of the ones that aren't. That ones that are fading fast in the dark.

My sister's birthday was yesterday. The last time I was able to wish her a happy birthday was 6 years ago. She would have been 23.

Monday, January 23, 2012

Wingless Angel

Growing up isn't easy. For anyone. Everyone has their "thing", their difficulty, their struggle. To say yours is worse then someone else's is ignorant. Fortunately for me, God gave me my saving grace. My "cure" for all things bad, for all things that threaten to send me to crazy town. Amongst all things that life has to offer, are the things it has to threaten you with. Those moments, those people, those situations that would make any sane human being burst with insanity. Everyone has their "demons". I'm fortunate to have my angel.

My mom.
No matter what, she's been there. No matter what, she's loved me. No matter what, she IS there. No matter what, she LOVES me.

I know there are about a million "mom" tribute's. But for every million, there's probably a million and one people who aren't fortunate to have a reason to make one. Some people have a reason, but lack realization.

I refuse to be one of THOSE people. I refuse to not realize what I've been so fortunate to have.

My mom doesn't sugar coat things, or make them seem better then they are, but she constantly reminds me of what is coming. She's constantly reminding me that it won't always be hard. That there will always be a rainbow at the end of the storm. A finish line at the end of a race.

She tells it like it is, and leaves room to remind you of the hope that will always be there.

Another great thing about my mom is that she never lets a day go by without letting you know how much she loves you. She never takes a single moment for granted. She finds beauty in the ashes, and strength in the weakest moments of our lives. She never stops reminding you just how awesome you are, as a person, and how lucky the world is to have you in it.

A lot of people say it... "If I could be HALF the person my mother is, then I know I did something right". I AM the person I am, because my mother did something right. I'm the mom I am, because my mom was the best mom. I'm the wife I am, because of my mom. I'm the friend I am, because my mom is my best friend. I've learnt everything I know, everything I know how to be, from my mom and not a day goes by that I'm not anything else but grateful.

I don't hope to be as good of a mom as her, I KNOW I will be. Because I had her as my teacher. I'm so confident in the person SHE is, that I'm equally as confident in the person I am.

Mom, thank you. There are really no other words. Thank you for being who you are. The world is a better place because YOU are in it. I'm a better person because YOU are my mom. My children are better people because they can call YOU their Nana. I love you and Happy Birthday! <3.

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

If you were here... I'd bring you dancing.

Saying I miss you so much, seems like such a bad choice of words. Nothing could ever describe how bad I truly miss you. I'm such a better person for having you as my sister.

Mikael reeks of you. I accidentally call him Monique every now and then, and he's not even the same sex. His eyes, I swear they're yours. You'd be so proud of him. He's so caring and loving. He's so smart. Ha... and just like you, he can very well "dish it", but can't always "take it".

Ezekiel would of loved you to pieces. To him, your lego skill would of easily made you THEE best aunt. Him and Mikael are the same age difference that we were. Watching them, in some weird way, reminds me of us. I hope they end up being as close as we were. I hope they learn to lean on each other and hold each other up. I wish you were here to hold me up.

Beautiful. My daughter, your niece... totally has your attitude. I can only pray that she'll use it the way you did, to stand up for what she truly believe's in. She's going to be an ass kicker, just like her aunt. I bet she wouldn't even be as shy around you as she is to everyone else.

You know... sometimes I picture you and Isaac laughing together. He'll be one in a few weeks, you both share the same birth month. Although, I don't think he would of made it to the age of one if you were still here. You probably would of eaten him up by now.

...I just want to let you know... I always knew Mikael would be sad for not having you around... but your nephew and niece cry too. The mere memory of you is so awesome that they cry because they never got to meet you. I hope with the stories I tell that I can make you just as real to them as you are to me. I hope my memories can somehow become theirs. ...Because let's face it... everyone needs some Monique in their head.

I love you. I love you so, so much.

I wish we could of thrown you a party today. I would of made you a cake. A double chocolate fudge cake with raspberry drizzle. I could picture you eating right now. ...With that smile... I miss hanging out with you so badly. I miss laughing with you, taking random drives to nowhere with you, playing yahtzee. No one plays Yahtzee. I hate that. Yahtzee reminds me so much of you, it's stupid. I listen to certain music that I typically wouldn't listen to, just because I know if you were still here you would of loved that song. You use to make the world go round. ...Now, somehow, the memory of you will just have to do...

Happy Birthday little sister. <3. 110189-041906