Eulogy

Some have asked what I said at your funeral. Here it is: 

Kobi Lee, Kob, Kobster, Uncle Kobi, Bubby, Bobo

I’ve literally known you my entire life and every moment that I have spent with you has been better because of your infectious smile, laugh and light. We didn’t just talk about the important things, but we talked about the little things. Sending pictures of dinosaur salt and pepper shakers because they are awesome, asking you if this shirt goes with these shoes, or any of the other mundane things we would spend hours talking about. We talked about your skating, we talked about your friends, who you were dating, the funny things your nieces said that day and how you couldn’t wait to have them over for a sleepover. You were my sounding board, my diary, my very best friend.

You’ve held my hand through all the scary things. Scary movies when we were kids, when I wrecked my bike and scabbed my knee and you carried me 3 blocks, when I was afraid to go to school because someone was mean to me and you held my hand all the way to the bus, and even when we got older and buried our loved ones. We sat through Dad’s service hand in hand, fingers laced, holding each other up. We went to King’s Island a few summer’s ago, and I only wanted to ride the roller coasters I knew I could handle. You convinced me to ride Diamond Back. I gave in, because I knew I would be alright as long as you were there with me. During the big drop, you could tell I was panicking and you reached over and you grabbed my hand. I instantly took a deep breath, and I was okay.

Every time I have felt that I wasn’t good enough, or was really sucking at this whole parenting thing, I would call you in tears. Kobi, I yelled too much, I don’t think I handled this appropriately. You would always tell me, “Those girls are lucky to have you. You are the most amazing, Mother. They are going to be just fine.” I always needed to hear those words and you always said them perfectly, and at the perfect time that I needed them.

You have talked me through countless panic attacks. It didn’t matter if it was 11 o’clock at night, or 3 in the morning, you’d stay on the phone with me until I was okay again. You always knew how to calm me down.

You’ve spent every holiday at my house, every one of my birthdays at the zoo with me and the girls, and every time I asked you to come home you did. You were always in love with the big towns, and I was always in love with the small ones. We never let any distance get in the way of our relationship, our friendship.

I remember when your first Niece was born, our sweet Abby Grace. I called you and told you I was in labor. You left work and drove straight here from Indy. You stayed at the hospital all day until she was born later that night. You cried like a baby when you held that child. You loved her from the instant you laid eyes on her. And to think that I was terrified to tell you I was pregnant. You’ve watched proudly at every birthday party, always telling them how much you loved them. They loved to snap chat with you. They would send you funny videos and pictures with goofy filters, and you would spend your evening sending them right back. I know that my girls mean the world to you, and I promise you, they will always know that. Always. I will always tell them that we love them to the moon and back, and the sun and back, just like you always said.

Everyone keeps telling me how much you loved me, how much you loved the girls. But I already know that. I know you loved me. I know you loved my girls. We always said it, we always talked about it, and we always showed it. I know if this situation were switched, you would be just as shattered, just as broken. I know you are angry that they made you leave me this way. You have always wanted to protect me from everything, you didn’t get to do that this time. I know if you were me, you wouldn’t know how to survive this either. I know, because we talked about it. We talked about how the sky would fall and the world would quit moving if we were ever separated.

I can’t begin to explain the amount of pain I am feeling right now. I don’t know how my heart can even beat being this broken. My world is shattered, my life forever altered. Every time we lost another member of our family, you would hold me and tell me, “We’ll get through this together. Like we always do.” I don’t even know how my legs are holding me up. I would give anything to have you back, to undo this. Unfortunately, the only choice that I have in front of me is to move forward, somehow, some way, and be the person, and the Mother, you loved so much.

The girls and I love you to the moon and back, and to the sun and back, and we will miss you even more.

Sis