Maybe, Tennesee

Kobi,

Today, I'm thinking back to the trip we took to Tennessee together. It was the last time we ever stepped foot in that house. It was shortly after Dad had died and we wanted to see our family members. We wanted to feel close to Dad. You were still in college and I had a break from school, it was perfect timing.

We drove 8 and a half hours together in the car, both ways. I loved every second of it. We joked, we laughed, we sang at the top of our lungs to "99 Red Balloons," and when we left, we cried. I'm so grateful for that trip we took. Even though being there without Dad was hard, and everything was so messed up in our lives, I'm so glad we spent that time together.

Life is so very weird. You don't think that a trip to see family that lives far away isn't going to be remembered for the time you had there, but for the time you had getting and coming home. I couldn't tell you what we talked about at my Grandmother's house, or what food was cooked for Thanksgiving, but I can tell you some of the songs we sang, how we both banged on the dashboard pretending to drum and how much we laughed over how frequently we both had to pee.

Until a couple days ago, I forgot we had even taken the trip. We were talking about traveling to Georgia for Thanksgiving and it suddenly brought those memories up. I love when I'm reminded of the things we did together. It's still so incredibly hard for me to believe that you are gone. It's even harder for me to wrap my mind around how it happened.

I wouldn't give these memories away for less pain. But I wish I could keep both the memories and you.

I love you so very much.

Sis

Evidence Tape

It's not something that most normal people even know about. It's something I wish I didn't know about. It's not some complicated thing, it's just a piece of tape that says, "Evidence" on it. Sounds basic, right? When you are the family member of a homicide victim, it's anything but basic, and tonight, it's all I can think of.

I should be sleeping, studying or doing a million other things, but I can't stop thinking about the evidence tape. Those boxes taped closed with that red, haunting tape. They use it to close the boxes that enclose evidence and personal items from your deceased family member. It's the items they keep for months looking over before they are finally returned to you. It's just one more thing that is drug out and makes recovering from a homicide that much harder.

It's been a year now since I received those ugly brown boxes with the red tape, granted, it wasn't as difficult as the blood splattered items I received a few months before them, but we'll save that terrible memory for another time. Those boxes held items my brother used on a regular basis. An iPad, computer, camera, and several other things. It also contained his old cell phone, the one he broke and I was suppose to send back to the phone company to replace. He had an alarm set to remind him that he had skate practice, and that "Rebels" alarm would pop up from time to time. It was another painful reminder that he wasn't where he was suppose to be.

Maybe that's what is more haunting than anything tonight. He's not where he's suppose to be. He's in a coffin in the middle of nowhere. He isn't on the phone with me right now. He isn't at practice or in bed. He isn't going to be here this weekend to see his nieces turn 6. It's so hard to think about how different they were the last time he was at their birthday. It makes me physically sick to my stomach.

This will be the first time we've been back to Escapades since his passing. He loved putting on his knee and elbow pads and climbing through the tubes with the girls. They adored it. They adore him.

This never gets easier. I just miss him more and more.