Stained Carpet and Faded Sofas

December 5, 1985 she was born. Do I remember it? Not at all but I wish I did. My sister was born, Amber Marie Vego. The pride and joy of my parents, the best little sister a brother could ever ask for, she entered the world at full speed and choose never to slow down. It was long before my Father started calling her the "Go-Girl" because she was always on the go, she was the life of the party, she was the party... I try a little harder every day to remember those twenty two incredible years that God did bless me with.

As children we became inseparable. I will never know why she always looked up to me the way she did but I'll appreciate the love she had for me. But the years went by too fast and we grew too far apart. There is nothing that can change how i handled my life up to this point, nothing. But one thing I hope to change is how I handle the rest of my life. As I sit here writing this and can't help but to recall a quote from Brennan Manning's The Ragamuffin Gospel, "I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained and the sofa faded. I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried about grass stains. I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn't show soil or was guaranteed to last a lifetime. When my child kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, 'Later. Now get washed up for dinner.' There would have been more I love yous, more I'm sorrys, but mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute, look at it andreally see it, live it, and never give it back." I think for the majority of the world by the time you have had a thought as incredible as this it's probably do late for you to do anything about it.

I will never forget that phone call. The one no one should ever have to experience, the one the makes you sick to your stomach, the one that makes your heart drop, the one that changes your life forever. Someone told me at the visitation that your life will never be the same again, from this point forward you have to find a "new normal." To this day that's all try to accomplish with my days, I search for a new norm life Christopher Columbus searched for The New World it occupies every waking hour. My life hasn't been the same since. My days have been have been just a little bit darker. Smiles and laughter have fewer and farther between. But life hasn't ended for me just yet, so I must go on. No matter how much it hurts, no matter how hard it is to get out of the bed in the morning, no matter how many tears I cry I must go on.

And that's why I have started writing. I would be lying if I said I have truly acknowledged the loss yet, if I didn't sit next to phone at night waiting for her to call, if I didn't wake up in the morning hoping to see her storm into my room saying, "Good morning my little rosebud, it's time to blossom (at the same time Gadge jumping onto the bed licking your head) !" And then we would be off for another adventure (Oh how much I miss those, those countless hours at thrift stores, those hours spent with her, I wouldn't trade them for the world). I don't want closure but I'm hoping for some sort of acceptance, so I want to begin journaling my thoughts and feelings to help myself and possibly someone who gets a phone call like I mentioned earlier.