I remember like it was yesterday when I got that call. They said you had passed away. I was in shock and could not believe you were taken away so young. You were such an angel to many and a great friend. I love you as my sister and friend. I will miss you so much. I know in my heart I will see you again. Death is not the end. You are one of the Lord's chosen angels. You are forever loved and are missed. -My cousin's facebook status, 9/28/09
It seems like yesterday. My brother and I were watching TV in our older brother's room. Then Mommy and Dad had to go. I can't remember tears. Were there any? They didn't tell us why they were leaving or where they were going. Even though it was a weekend my brother told us to go to sleep. We were protesting and asking why, and I had a feeling that something was wrong.
I knew it had to do with your mom, my Aunt Julie. I've forgotten how I knew, but I did. I thought there was something wrong with her that night. So I said my prayers specifically for her that evening. But, I never thought it was going to be you, Kylie.
In the morning I heard my mom and my little brother talking about something. I was expecting the worst about my aunt. I stayed in bed until I couldn't take it anymore. I got up. Mom and Nick were hugging each other on the couch. I can't remember her exact words. It was three years ago.
"Abrie. I have some sad news. Kylie passed away last night."
Was that what she said? I can't remember. I remember only some little things. Then I cried with them on the couch. The last thing I remember of that day is my dad bringing home tacos. Tacos. I hated it.
The next few days were back and forth from Aunt Mary's house to home, then back again the next day and back and back and back. I remember the face my Aunt Julie wore everyday I saw her: a frown, with sorrowful eyes. In fact everyone wore that face. It wasn't an option. It came with the grief. The only time we laughed was when we recalled funny stories about you or silly things you used to say.
Mostly what we did, though, was sort through pictures of you to show at your services. I remember one made us laugh. Your mom looked at it and almost didn't put it in the stack of ones to use. But she said, "That's who she was." Yes, that was definitely you. You were crazy.
Then your funeral came and I held myself together, mostly. Everyone talked about his or her experiences with you and it made everyone laugh, despite the fact that we were all sorrowful. I was in control of myself. I didn't have any breakdowns or crazy crying.
But then later, at your viewing, they showed the slideshow of your pictures. It was then that I lost control. I cried like I probably never had before. My daddy had to take me outside. I couldn't catch my breath or stop the tears. I let myself lose it all, all of my control. I still do. Three years later.
Then we laid you to rest. There was more crying. It was sunny outside. It shouldn't have been that hot. It should have been raining, because we lost you. But Heaven was lucky; therefore, there could be no rain. But it wasn't fair . . .
What I think about every time someone mentions you is your laugh, the funny voices you made, and how silly you were. Sometimes, when your sister laughs or when she sings, one little second of it sounds just like you and I freeze and smile. But I've never told her that.
I remember playing snake on your phone with the green screen all the time. I would walk around with you because you were my best cousin. You gave me lip balm, nail polish and jewelry that you didn't want anymore. I still have it, along with everything your mother gave me that she found from moving twice. I have bracelets, necklaces, earrings, charms, polish, perfumes, hats, everything. I even had your shoes for a while, until they tore . . .
And no one . . . no one wants to let you go.
After three years, it still hurts.
~fairypup2
