Today my sister is 24.

I shared with you about my sister Alisha before. She and I were the little dynamic duo.

And then along came Ana.

Cute, pudgy little baby for me to tote around like a doll and do all my baby-talk to.

I was thrilled to have a new baby sister. 

I remember how full of pride I was when I got to leave my kindergarten class early to go visit my new baby sister at the hospital.

Ana was adorable. And Alisha was a complete spaz at this time, so Ana was the new sweet & innocent fixation of my attentions.

The cuteness carried on for many years.

So sweet. And innocent.

Uh…wait..

Not quite!

This is where the story goes awry, and you learn that beautiful sweet little innocent Ana was a bit of a crazy girl herself.

Sure her peskiness and bossiness and somewhat brutal methods of gaining our attention may have been completely the result of Alisha and I dropping her after the baby phase had passed. But still…..you really can't blame us for her mishchief, right? 

The ridiculous truth is that for what ever reason, that prized baby sister of mine became the aggravation of my life for a number of years.

This is about the age she was when I decided there was no hope….she was pure annoyance in the flesh and nothing could be done about it.

A little example:

I would have my boyfriend over, we would be in my room, but of course, I wasn't allowed to close the door. So what do you think Ana did? Stood about a quarter of an inch past the outside of my doorframe, smiling, staring at us and saying "I'm not in your room." 

(Insert my completely disgusted groan here)

After enough whining to my mom, I would finally be given permission to shut the door. 

Within seconds…. BANG. BANG. BANG.

What's that noise? Oh, it's Ana. Driving her remote control car into my closed bedroom door over and over again.

As you can imagine, a self-absorbed teenager combined with a bored and restless ten year old equals very little sister-love.

Ana and I really did not get along. For a long time.

BUT, rest your mother hearts! Those of you with girls to raise. Those desperate prophesies of my mother did prove to come true.

We eventually grew up, and we became friends.

Harmony at last.

Happy Birthday Ana!

It's kind of tragic to me that intense and hard circumstances tend to burn such vivid images in our minds. Or maybe it's just me. 

The happy moments…I remember…in a foggy, vague sort of way. 

But the sad, traumatic, life-changing moments….I can't ever forget. I remember details. Smells, sounds, the clothes I was wearing, that hard lump in my throat, the feeling of sitting on a cold, sterile floor.  The hard things stay in my mind in a way that takes me back, right to those moments.

Twelve years ago we had a birthday party for my baby sister. In the middle of a hospital room, with her in a little gown laying there so ill, we celebrated the big "3".

Three days later we told her goodbye.

I remember that I wore the same shirt those three days. I don't know why. It was very intentional. There was something about it that comforted me. To ignore the going on of "life" as I watched a treasured little life slowly fading. 

It overwhelmed me to be there. But I needed to be there. If it's possible to want something even though you'd rather run away from it as far and fast as you can, I wanted to be there.

I remember her sleeping. Knowing that sleep was all there would be. Soft music playing. People coming. Praying. Sitting alone with her. Telling her to go. It's okay. Go. Because they said we all needed to say that.

And she listened.

There is a joy beyond comprehension in knowing the peace and joy and life that she is experiencing now. But also, a sorrow beyond words. Still.

I've learned over the years how to set aside the memories. Because every time I let them out, I'm instantly back there; in that moment. I know that God carried all of us through those days. We are not that strong…I don't care what anybody thinks. No one is that strong.

But what I realize now, as I tell my girls about their auntie who would've been fifteen years old today, is that in setting aside those memories, I've set her aside too. 

And I don't want to do that. The most vivid memories are the most horrific ones, but there was so much more to her time with us than those days. I want to make myself remember her. The gift from God that had us all wrapped around her finger. I want to remember the joy she brought us….not the sickness that took her away. I want to remember, because I'm afraid I'm forgetting. The extraordinarily painful is overshadowing the ordinary beautiful, and the ordinary was the best part.

My brown haired, blue-eyed middle girl bears her auntie's name; I want her to know the brown-haired, blue-eyed girl who came before her. Not just know that she's gone and we miss her, but know who she was.

So, on her birthday, little things I remember about my baby sister….

She loved to sing. And dance. As soon as she could sit up she would play music on a little electric keyboard and rock back and forth to the beat.

She was a girly girl….always thrilled to dress up.

She loved Barney. As much as I couldn't stand it, she loved him.

She had a funny way of puckering up her lips, which resulted in me calling her "Duckie".

She loved to play with my make-up. And I being her teenage sister and not her mother, loved letting her play with my make-up.

She would run up and down the hall singing/shouting "I get knocked down, but I get up again…You're never gonna keep me down!" Her musical tastes I'm sure were a product of the teenage sisters.

She loved my friends. She would just want to come lay on my bed when my friends were over and listen to us talk.

She loved Jesus. There's a reason the Bible tells us to have faith like a child. It's because their faith is true, perfect faith.

She was the baby I prayed would come. For years I prayed for a new baby. One day God said yes. And she was amazing.

Join me please! If you knew her, please share your special memories of our sweet girl. Let's remember and celebrate her life together.

Monday was a day off from work for Hombre. This is always an exciting treat. And since I wasn't on top of it and made no plans for a big unit study of Martin Luther King, we decided to have a little getaway.

Only about an hour of driving and we found someplace "educational" to take a hike and enjoy some beautiful warm weather!

I love that right now my girls are young enough they still think field trips like this are really exciting. They ran around drawing pictures of everything they saw.

After our time of exploring we found a park with a nice big shade tree that was perfect for a picnic.

Then we got to wander through some antique stores in a nearby town. It was thrilling to realize our kids are getting big enough this is something we can all do together.  

Of course, I came home with some books. Because I just can't help it.

It was a wonderful holiday! Quiet, simple, full of sunshine, exercise, and beautiful views. Perfect.

Did you every do radio dedications?

Do you even know what I'm talking about?

When I was about twelve, my sister, my best friend and I would spend HOURS…calling in on "Country from the Heart" on our local radio station. Dedicating songs to the "men of our dreams" (who have long since been forgotten!) and then listening for the songs to get played along with the little "to you, from me" announcement.

It was really dorky. There's just no other word for it. That's what it was.

And yet, much to my shame I have not completely matured beyond that dorkiness.

If there were a radio station for me to make a dedication on right now, I'd be calling in.

I heard this song for the first time this morning, via this girl's blog.

And of course, because it's the easiest thing in the world to do, it made me cry. 

And now I have to post it here… for the man of my life. The one who really IS the man of my dreams.