Thinking on these things...

"Like a comet pulled from orbit, as it passes a sun. Like a tree that meets a boulder, half way through the wood..."
Just yesterday someone asked me how I carried myself so well after what happened with my sister. My reply was, "I'm at the point in life where it has become part of my life. There comes a point when you realize that you have to continue on with your life. It's what that person would've wanted."
But then, I thought, Wow...I guess I really don't think about her death as much as I used too. Does this make me a bad person?
The truth is, no. I miss her each and every day. When she died, my whole world collapsed. I don't think my world has been the same since December 17th, 2010. But as I look towards college and a nursing career, a husband and a family...I don't find myself wanting to dwell on death. A couple months ago, I sat down in my bed and thought about what Melanie would say to me if she could talk to me.
"Quit your crying...you know you're going to see me again!"
"Don't worry honey, I'm way better up here."
"Take care of Neil and Eric for me...but don't spoil Neil too much!"
I miss her a lot. It's not easy losing a childhood best friend who helped make you who you were. But the changes that have been made in me, and the things I was taught through her death, I would not change for anything.

Reminiscing...

MELANIE ROSE (TICEN) BRADLEY

August 17th, 1986 to December 17th, 2010

I remember the exact moment that my crying mom revealed to me this: my beloved sister, Mel, had died from a pulmonary embolism in her heart. I cried as my siblings looked on. I wailed "No! Not my sister! NO!!!" and in horrific sadness, I fell into my mom's arms. She cried with me and tried to explain everything that had gone on while I sat in Biology class that morning at 9:20am, absolutely clueless of what had happened.

People had clobbered my Facebook in apologetic wall posts..."Ginny! I am SO sorry!!" or "We are praying for you!!" And the phone rang over and over. Each time, I begged for it to be Mel calling, saying, "Hey! It's me. I'm okay after all." But I knew it couldn't happen. But how could she die? The girl who promised she would name her first daughter after me? The girl who taught me my first notes on the piano? Who cheered me up no matter what had happened? Could God really take her home...now? Just eight days before Christmas, with an eleven-month-old son and a husband who is now a widower, at only 27?

The Tuesday following her death, her body arrived safely to Jackson Funeral Home in Rensselaer, Indiana. We were asked to come and see her to make sure she looked good enough for her services tomorrow and the day after. Bekah and I went first and tried to keep our emotions hidden, but the moment she walked out, I took a long look at her and the first tear fell. Thousands more followed. I even kept a conversation with her...though, sadly, it was one-sided.

That night, I even attempted to play basketball. I tried to concentrate on the game, but all I did was see her face. All I could see was Melanie in the casket. By the third quarter, I was sitting on the bench, watching my team play without me. I was too unstable.

After enduring a five-hour (what felt like five years) viewing, the funeral the next morning and the burial at the cemetery just a few miles from Burr Oak Mennonite Church, where the services were held, I sat with several of my dearest friends for the funeral luncheon. I laughed as hard as I could, whenever I could. I frankly could not be sad anymore. I had earned some happiness. I intended to take full advantage of it. And thankfully, it came (for the first time in several days) very easily. And today, I thank God that she is there with Him. One day, I'll be there too. And I can't wait to talk to her again.

"Don't be mad, if I cry. It just hurts so bad, sometimes. 'Cause every day, it's sinking in. And I have to say goodbye all over again. You know, I bet it feels nice to have the weight of this world off your shoulders now. I'm dreaming of the day when I'm finally there with you.

Save a place for me, save a place for me. I'll be there soon. I'll be there soon. Save a place for me, save some grace for me. I'll be there soon. I'll be there."