it is absolutely crazy to me to witness all the attention ali has gotten since she’s passed. i keep thinking to myself what it would feel like to be alive and know thousands of people who are so far removed from me, are inspired, healed, brought to God, etc, because of the life i lead. she’d be so flattered. mom told us not long ago ali said to her, “mom, how come i never knew so many people cared for me? how come i felt out casted growing up and here all these people from my past are telling me how much they have always loved me?” from our perspective we’ve always been able to see how contagious her personality is. i’ve always looked up to her knowing how awesome she was. how people, especially kids, flock to her, just to be near her. i just wish she would have know while she was here. last night i said on facebook, “I picture her, God standing next to her with his arm around her. They’re looking down as He says, “you see now why I called you home? Look at these thousands of people, whose eyes you’ve opened. Some you brought back to me, all you’ve inspired and touched. This was my plan all along.” I just see her so happy. knowing this doesn’t make it any less painful. it doesn’t take the knife out of our guts, especially ben’s. we have since turned our 7 and 10 o’clock prayers towards the healing of ben. (if you are new here, 7 o clock prayer came after a healing service where we all got prayer cards to read and light a candle at that time. the 10a & 10p prayer was because when she was on the clinical trial, those times are when she was to take her ‘miracle drug’. even when she was taken off the trial mths ago, i continued to pray for her at those times.) while each of us suffers a deep unexplainable pain, it’s different for my parents, me & britt, ben, etc. we each can still go home and grieve in the arms of our spouse. be held in the middle of the night as our body trembles. we don’t have to return to the home where EVERY SINGLE DETAIL was perfectly placed by ali (aka martha stewart). we don’t have to pull up to our house each day and see her car sit there, and for that split second hope that’s she’s waiting inside with one of her amazingly cooked meals. or seeing her clean laundry sit in piles, clothes from her final hospital stay in bags, makeup still on the counter, ughhhhhh. for all of us as we sit at my parents together and feel like at any point she will walk out of the bathroom or down the steps after napping. it’s torture. pure torture knowing i will never see her in the flesh again. i pray for our brother ben, that the days get easier sooner than later. knowing that each day that passes is further from when we saw her last, but closer to when we will see her again. for now, he knows he is surrounded by his and our families that will do anything for him, but the emptiness and alone feeling, we can’t take away from him. i wish i could.
yesterday was the second hardest day of my life as we went to the funeral home and helped ben pick out the casket (light pink with pink interior obviously 🙂 ), and answer other questions in which we could hardly get the words out. followed by a long afternoon of pulling all these funny and beautiful images of ali to create the story of her life in slideshow. last we had to go back to her house and pick out her final outfit. i can’t believe for the first time in our life, WE were picking out clothes for ali. do you know the kind of pressure that is? the girl went to chemo treatments in a dress, jewelry and flower in her hair. when i would come to pick her up for an event, she’d look at me and say, “you can’t wear that necklace with that, wear this.” and then she pointed to what looked like a damn claires boutique on her dresser and wall. the girl had such style, how do you make that decision for her? while we teared up, we also laughed, then cried until we thought we might have found something comfortable and suitable enough for our fashionista. we know it’s silly to worry about her earthly body since she is completely removed from it, but it’s ali, and she must look perfect for eternity. and in the weeks ahead as i still go to her bedroom in search of a perfect necklace for dress (just did it this morning for mia’s baptism) i hope that she can guide me from above.
my family (ben included) is so grateful for all the overwhelming support the last 8 mths. i hope it continues in the days ahead. it comes in such waves. it’s much easier to be around our family, because when i’m home it’s the hardest. times like today when i dressed nori in an adorable outfit, the first thing i naturally went to do is text a picture to aunt ali. to which she used to respond, “omg i can’t wait for olivia to wear that!” i held up my phone ready to snap and stopped. and bawled. and i thought to myself how hard this is going to be…
while today, i rest in a place of denial, this is who i am, the youngest of 3.
.jpg "photo")
if you wanted to see her one last time, here are the arrangements:
a chance to say goodbye personally: Tuesday 4 to 9 PM at Purcell Marian High School, 2935 Hackberry, 45206.
celebration of her badass life: Wednesday 12:10 PM at St. Francis de Sales, 1600 Madison Road, 45206.
God bless you cyber world, for spreading the story of my dear sister.
heart, melanie.
