Full Speed Ahead

Kobi,

I'm sitting up in bed playing on my computer, drinking a glass of wine, tears streaming down my face. I miss you. I feel like someone had their foot down to the floor on the accelerator because it doesn't seem possible it's already time for our first holiday season without you.

Yesterday, I was sitting on my couch drinking hot cocoa with the kids, watching "A Year Without A Santa Claus." Your movie. You had more Christmas movies than me, and I have kids. You loved Christmas. You loved watching the girls' faces light up when they walked out to see the presents and when they opened up their favorite gift. I always just loved having you here. I got you for a full 48 hours, and I loved every minute of it. I never thought you'd be an ornament on my tree. A memory we choke back tears talking about. I won't get to bake cookies and fudge to send home with you, and I should be on the phone with you about now talking about what time you are getting in on Wednesday. I never imagined this life for us, Kobi. I still regret not talking bout the what if's with you. Because I wish I knew how to cope now.  I needed you. I still need you.

I'm trying to be fine. I'm trying hard because I know everyone thinks I have a timeline of grieving and then I have to cross over that imaginary sanity line. It's not that easy. I'm working through the stages in a whirlwind and at random. But no matter what, my head is still crowded with how. I don't think that's something you ever shake off. It's not something you learn to live with. You just try to push it to the back of your mind and try not to lose your mind completely when it surfaces. I keep picking out presents for you. It's hard not to shop for you. It was one of my favorite things. I loved making you smile. This year I get to bring you flowers to place by your head stone. Green Christmas lights around the base. And many, many of my tears. I keep hoping that every time I see another story about another murder or robbery that it's connected. That we've finally found your murderer. That I can finally tell this person what they did, because they don't really know what they took from this world.

They don't really know how incredibly broken I am.

The girls were really worried Christmas wasn't going to happen this year. So we went and bought a tree to put up. They like the colorful lights and I like the white, so we compromised and got one that does both. They were over the moon about it. 

Of course, I had to add a touch of you. You kept this concert stub from the concert we went to together. I thought it would look better out instead of sitting in a box, and I added our picture. 

We are always thinking of you and loving you. These next few weeks are going to be tough. Hold my hand. 

I love you and miss you, every single second of every single day. 

Sis

You Said You'd Be Okay

Kobi,

Sometimes I get mad at you. Yes, mad at you. I know that probably makes me a terrible person to get angry at a dead person. But I can't help it. I told you I was worried. I told you the crime rate was sky rocketing in Indy and that you should come closer to home. I told you that I needed you, and that meant you needed to be safe, always. But you brushed me off. You told me you would be okay and that the area you lived in was safe. I know you, and I know you didn't really think about it. You assumed you would be fine, and that the crime wouldn't find you. But it found you. They, found you. And you can't change the outcome, anymore than I can.

Sometimes I'm angry that you didn't out run them. You were fit, and fast. But I know you can't run faster than bullets. I know you held on for as long as you could. You fought hard to stay here for these girls. You gave it your all. I just wish I had fought harder to convince you to come home. I was worried that you would be too unhappy if you were further from your friends and your team. Yes, we were your world, but you needed them too. You were always very social, and it's what made you, you. I'm trying to forgive a lot of people in this situation. You'll have to be a little understanding, if one of those is also you.

I needed you. I still need you.

Love you,

Kay

They Aren't Broken

Kob,

It's been really hard to be a parent through all of this. It's been even harder to be a good parent. And there is a big difference. I've been doing my absolute best, but sometimes I yell about things I wouldn't normally yell about, and they very rarely have anything to do with what's actually happening in front of me. I'm not that angry about the kids shoving wrappers in their pretend oven. I'm not really that upset that they keep running around in a circle. It's me, directing it somewhere, and at anyone because it needs to get out. Somehow, someway.

These past couple weeks have been filled with parent teacher conferences for the girls. Yesterday, we went to the twins conference. It was filled with glowing reviews about how incredibly sweet, kind and well behaved your nieces are. They play well with others. They have great sense of humors, and they are on track with all of their skills. It's not at all what I was expecting. I got into the car and starting bawling. Casey asked me what was going on and I said, "I haven't broken them."

I have been so consumed with my grief that I was worried I had messed my kids up in some way. I could hear you saying, "Sweetie, you're a great, Mom. It's going to take a lot more than that to mess up all the great things you and Casey do for them." I hope so. I hope that all my sadness, frustrations and anger at your loss do not ruin them. I am trying to keep that from happening, but I miss you so badly.

I need my best friend. I need my sounding board. I need you.

I love and miss you more than you know.

Love,

Little Sis

Just Dreaming

Kobi,

Last night you were in my dreams. I woke up crying. It was all too much for me to take.

For the majority of the dream we were trying to find a way to revive you. We were running through the cemetery with all of our gear and equipment and reading books. We were trying everything we could to bring you back. Till someone said, is it really a good idea to bring someone back who is riddled with bullet holes? And for some reason, that made us stop. I then started to lead a raid on a house in Indianapolis filled with who I thought may have killed you. We ran through arresting several suspects, and then I punched one in the face.

After those 2, already consuming parts of my dream, I walked in to a concert, and you were standing there, I looked you up and down, remembering how you look perfectly, and I said, "You're still here?" You said "Yes"and you smiled that big smile of yours.

I woke up to Ally crying for me, I rolled away from Casey and cried as quietly as I could.

I wish I could bring you back. I wish I could walk up to anywhere and see you standing there. I wish this was all just a really bad dream. I ache to talk to you so very badly.

I love you Kobi Lee.

Sis

Anger

My best friend,

I tried to call you again today. Every time I do this I feel a little more insane, a little more out of touch with reality. How crazy does one have to be to keep trying to call someone so obviously dead? But apparently I'm all kinds of crazy these days.  Today, I was getting mad at a box because I kept trying to pull it out from underneath the bed to put more Christmas toys in it, and it just kept getting caught on the bottom of the bed. I got upset, and starting kicking the box. I thought I was angry at the box until I began sobbing and yelling, "It's not fair." I realized that it wasn't about this stupid box at all. It was all about you. Most of my emotions are these days. I'm emotional. I'm sad, I'm angry and I'm broken. I'm so incredibly broken. I hurt in places I didn't even know existed.

I know loss. I have lost a lot, we had lost a lot together. Losing someone to suicide isn't easy. All that guilt and pain. It's even harder when that loved one is your parent. That's a whole different kind of abandonment. That's an entirely different kind of hell. But losing someone to murder is a very different experience. Someone took you away from me and it didn't have to happen. You didn't make the choice. You didn't go on your own accord. You were scared. You suffered.  It wasn't a car accident, or an illness. Your body didn't fail you. And some day, I'm going to have to truly believe that I didn't fail you either, but I'm not there yet.

I'm angry. Angrier than I ever thought possible. I didn't know I could be this mad. I have no where to focus it. Currently, I'm placing it in all the wrong places. But not even knowing who to be angry at, makes it hard to point it in the right direction. So for now, I'm angry that we are so lax in our gun laws that these thugs can just buy them on the streets. I'm angry that an apartment complex didn't have better security and lighting. I'm angry that I wasn't on the phone with you that night, of all nights. I'm angry that I don't get to have you in my life. I'm angry that my girls won't have you in their lives. I'm angry that I can't talk to you, when I need you the most.  I'm angry that you aren't here, and you should be. I'm so incredibly angry.

You know, we had been texting and calling each other since we got our first cell phones in 2004. The year you went off to college and Mom wanted to make sure she could call you wherever you were. That's 13 years of calling you. 13 years of being able to pick up a phone and have you on the other line.  26 years of having you in my life. I don't think that habit is going to fade anytime soon. God, I never thought we'd be here. I thought I was just paranoid and worried because I was your sister, and that's what sisters do. How did we get here? I wish I knew.

Love you more than you know,

Your best friend

6 months

Hey best friend,

I'm not even sure what is left to say. I miss you more than I could put into words. I love you more than I could put into words. I simply can't express the immense amount of grief I am in currently. To think that it's been half a year since I have spoken to you seems absolutely insane. I told someone the other day that it feels like I'm confused. You know, that feeling you get when you are legitimately confused about something? It usually only lasts a moment, but it's been 6 months for me. 6 months of wondering what is going on in my life. I'm in a haze. A constant, turbulent haze. I read the articles still. I look at your obituary. I go back to when I was standing in front of your casket just staring at you. I have to make it seem real. Because the other morning I woke up in the dead of night and grabbed my phone to call you. I needed to talk to you. I needed to make sure you were okay because I knew I hadn't talked to you in a while, but in that moment, I didn't know why.

I still look at my phone when it goes off and expect to see your name. I still expect to see you here on Thanksgiving and Christmas. I still expect to be able to call you when I'm so upset I can't even breathe. I have to repeat it when I say, "When Kobi died." or "Kobi's grave." Because it still seems like some awful nightmare I'm surviving. I don't want time to move forward. It can either move backwards, or it can just stop right here. Where it's been 6 months since I've talked to you and no longer.

I feel empty. Completely vacant. I want my life back. I want you to have your life back. I want you to not have been killed by one of the main things you feared. I want you to not have suffered. I want you to not have had those awful thoughts and images in your head before you died. I want things to be different. But they aren't. And I can't ever make them better. I can't make things better for you this time. I have to figure out how I'm suppose to live with that.

I love you,

Your best friend