Dear Anna (letter 4)

Dear Anna,

I wrote to you on facebook last week and I told you that this week would be the one I would miss you the most. I am sad to say that is true. I know you here with us at the beach, but it is so hard to not have you here physically. This place is full of memories with you, memories of us spending time together and spending time with our family. It breaks my heart to think we won't have any more of those memories.

From the minute that we got here to the beach house, I found myself turning around looking for my beach week companion. Looking for the person who was my refuge when I needed a break from the family. Looking for the person who was my other half this week. We didn't always spend a lot of time together when I was home for the summer because we were busy living our own lives, but this for one week every summer we had no choice; we were stuck together at the beach. I have so many great memories from this week; playing cards, laughing at Mommy, and just being together. Even though we may have spent half the week fighting, we always got over it and went back to being friends. And that right there sums up our relationship; we didn't get along all the time. We didn't always see eye to eye. It wasn't all "I love you" all the time. But we both knew how much we meant to each other and no matter what, we remained friends. Even though I regret wasting the time I had with you fighting, I would gladly argue with you if it meant I could have you back here.

Today, I talked to someone about how I felt guilty for not being sad all the time. I miss you so much but for some reason I'm just not sad as much as I feel like I should be. In fact, sometimes I find myself picking other people up when they aren't feeling strong, when they miss you like crazy. I find myself being the one to comfort them and I know that is you working through me. That is exactly how you were; always putting other peoples feelings ahead of yours. That is why you never told your friends that you were dieing. You didn't want them to be sad. That is pretty amazing, Anna. Still, sometimes I feel guilty and confused by the fact that I am not the one falling apart. I have my moments like everyone else, of course, but for the most part I am ok. And that confuses me. Why am I ok? Why can I function without you when I never imagined I would be able to? I don't know. I know that I loved you and I know that you knew that, so why does it matter? I don't know. Anyway, my friend I talked to about this told me that it's because you have a special place in my heart and that brings me comfort instead of grief. I think he said it perfectly; you will always be in my heart and on my mind and I think you gave me the ability to be strong without you. Thank you for that, Anna.

Tonight was family picture night at the beach and it was one of the hardest things that we've had to do without you. It was heartbreaking to turn around and realize you weren't there. It was heartbreaking to have to take our individual family picture as a family of 3 and not 4. It was heartbreaking that there are now 7 grandchildren in the picture, not 8. It was heartbreaking that you weren't here for us to take our sisters pictures together. Remember 2 years ago at the beach Mommy took so many of us and we were laughing at her the whole time?! I miss that. I miss you, Anna.

I still can't believe you're gone and that you've been gone for 4 weeks. I can't believe it's been almost a month. I can't believe that I have to live the rest of my life without you.

Sometimes, I think about what life would be like if you were still here and every time, I don't wish for you to still to be and be sick; I wish that you would've never gotten sick. I know that if you were still alive right now, you'd be miserable. Your health was so bad at the end, that there's probably no way you would've even made it to the beach. It was so hard to see you suffer, and it gives me so much comfort knowing that you are no longer in pain. But it doesn't stop me from missing you. And it doesn't stop me from wishing that you'd never gotten sick because then not only would you be here with us, but you'd be healthy and able to live your life to the fullest.

I know why God chose you, and I am proud that he chose you because of the impact you had. Because you could handle it with the amazing grace that you did. Because you are just the kind of Angel that heaven needed. I understand why he chose you; that he had a plan for you but I still miss you.

I wish we could have one last conversation. One last hug. One last "I love you". Share one last laugh. One more day just to be together. But we can't. So, I'll do what I know you would want me to do; be strong. Keep floating on.  Just for you Anna...

I love you, and I miss you.

Love,

Iss.

At the time I hated this picture, because I have like 3 chins, but now it is such a special memory and a great representation of our bond as sisters. <3 I miss that laugh...

3 Weeks (PYHO)

Dear Anna,

I'm really enjoying writing these letters to you. It is really helping me deal with my feelings about you being in heaven and not here with me. I hope you're not rolling your eyes thinking I'm lame or too cheesy but even if you are, at least you're getting my letters! On my last letter to you, someone told me I probably don't even have to ask God to pass on my messages to you; that I probably have a direct line to you and I think she's right. I think I can communicate straight to you, and I'm glad.

I can't believe you've been gone 3 weeks now. The day that you went to heaven is permanently embedded in my mind; in some ways, it feels like just yesterday. In some ways, I wish I didn't have that memory of you when you stopped breathing. No matter how hard I try not to think about it, I can't erase that from my mind and in some ways I am afraid that that memory will take the place of the good ones. In some ways, I am scared that I won't remember the good times because towards the end they were so few and far between. In some ways, it is hard to remember a time when you were healthy and you were truly yourself.

Lately, I keep doing things that I feel like I should be doing with you. Last week, your friends and I watched Almost Famous, your favorite movie. I definitely saw why it was your favorite movie; you are Penny Lane! I remember when Mommy told you that after you met Manchester Orchestra and they invited you to Lollapalooza and Daddy said "no!!! She's not ready for that yet!" ha! After seeing the movie, I see why that scared him so much! But I definitely see that in you; you were a total "Band Aid". It made me so happy to see your favorite movie and to understand why you loved it so much (even though I still don't understand why "It's All Happening" is your favorite quote??), but at the same time it made me so sad that I didn't ever get to experience that with you. I keep telling myself that we were different people; we liked different things and that's ok. I know it didn't make us any less close just because we didn't share the same taste in music. But I wish I would've made more of an effort to at least let you tell me about the bands you were listening to or to have watched Almost Famous with you. I feel like I would've known you better if we had shared that and maybe we would even bond over it. I'm making an effort now, even though I can't do it with you, to learn about the stuff that you loved. I made a Manchester Orchestra Pandora station and I am learning about the music you love! I guess it's my way of carrying you with me.

You taught me so many important lessons, Anna. And not just me, but everyone around you has learned from you. At the JP2 memorial, everyone spoke about how little their problems mattered in comparison to what you went through and it is so true. You showed us that the little things are not big things and that even when you're faced with big things you can triumph and not let it get you down.

I'll always remember a time last year when we were at the Beach. We were getting ready together for family pictures and I was complaining the whole time; "I look fat in this outfit. My make up looks crappy. My hair isn't cooperating." "Why do you care so much," you asked me. "I'm just really insecure," I told you, "I know you wouldn't understand what that's like." I didn't mean it, but I was always so jealous of how skinny and pretty and seemingly perfect you were. I couldn't imagine that you'd ever felt insecure. You shot back, "Yeah, I have no idea what it's like to be insecure." I realized what I had just said and how wrong I was. This was the first time you'd seen people since you started treatment. I looked at you and saw your wig that was covering a completely bald head. Your fake eyelashes that hid the fact that yours had fallen out. Your acrylic nails that covered up yours which were completely dead from chemo. Your eyebrows that were penciled in where yours used to be. These were all physical testaments to the fight for your life, but they were also all things to be insecure about. That day, I realized I may be insecure about my weight and my looks. I may not feel pretty all the time but at least I have hair. At least I am not fighting like hell just to stay alive.

I know I've said it before but I'm not angry that you're gone. In a way I feel blessed. God knew his plans for you. He knew he was gonna take you to heaven and make you an angel. He knew you would be sick and need a lot of love and care and he chose us. He chose me and mommy and daddy to be your family and be by your side through this journey. He chose all your friends because he knew they would make you forget your pain and they would feel it with you too. It is pretty amazing to think that God gave you to us knowing your ultimate fate. For that I will be eternally grateful because I would not be who I am today if you weren't my sister.

Yesterday, I was asked if I have kids someday how I will tell them about you. What will I say that will help them feel like they know the Aunt they'll never get to meet? I thought a lot about it and you know what I'll tell them, Anna? I'll tell them that you are my hero. That you're the strongest person I've ever met. That you are the most beautiful person I've even known both inside and out. That you inspired millions of people and millions of prayers were said for you. That even though it is sad that you can't be with us here on Earth, that you are so special that God needed you more. That I miss you everyday and my heart will always hurt, but I am stronger because of you. That you are in heaven watching over them. That they have the best possible Aunt ever because they have an automatic guardian angel.

I love you so much, Anna and I will never ever forget you. Thank you for being my sister, my hero, my guardian angel. I hope you are having one hell of a time in heaven!



I am linking up today with Pour Your Heart Out at Shell's place.



Dear Anna (2nd edition)

Dear Anna,

I know God is passing on my messages to you, and I'm glad because I have so much to say to you that I need you to hear.

First of all, this one is obvious but I miss you so much it hurts. Lately, everyone's lives have started going back to "normal"; Daddy and I went back to work, and most of your friends did too. We aren't planning your funeral or making decisions about that stuff anymore. Instead, we are trying to move on with our lives and go back to the way things were before you went to heaven.

I didn't think that this would be hard. I don't know why, but it never occurred to me how hard this would be. Although it is nice to stay busy and do something during the day, it kind of reminds me of how much I miss you. It's hard to explain, but I guess doing things "normally" makes it more clear how not normal things are now. We can go on with our lives the way they were before, but we can't ignore the fact that our lives aren't and never will be the way they were before. Life can't be "normal" or the way it was when you were still with us because you're not with us anymore. Not physically, anyway. It doesn't feel right for our lives to keep going when yours here on Earth came to an end. It just feels like we are pretending to be normal when we know we can never be normal again.

Today, when I was driving home from work, I thought about you and for a minute, I thought that I would see you. I haven't been to work since you went to heaven, so it has always been a normal part of coming home to see you. I was looking forward to seeing you and asking you how your day was when all the sudden I remembered. I remembered I wouldn't see you when I got home. Not today, not ever. And it felt like I lost you all over again, Anna.

I want so badly to talk to you, to see your beautiful smiling face again. To hear your laugh after you "nailed a funny joke".

I know you would tell me I'm crazy, but I have so many regrets about your life. I hate that I was away for so much of the last year of your life and that we would sometimes go months without talking. If I could have those days back, I would call you 200 times in a row if that's how many times it took you to answer the phone! I would demand more skype dates. I would do whatever I could to stay updated with your life. I feel like I really missed out on a lot by not keeping in touch better and it kills me. I'm learning so much about you from the memories your friends share (by the way so are Mommy and Daddy. They're learning things about you you probably never wanted them to know!). I love hearing their stories about you, but at the same time it makes me sad that I missed out on that stuff. That I'm just hearing these stories from them, and that I didn't hear them from you when it happened. If only I would have picked up the phone or sent a text and said "what did you do last night?" maybe I would've known some of these things sooner.

I know I can't live life in regret and I know you wouldn't want me worrying about stupid things like this, so I'm trying to let it go.

Before I go, I just wanted to tell you that you picked great friends. You definitely knew what you were doing when you chose your best friends because you left me with some great sisters and brothers. It is amazing how close we have become, Anna, and it is all because of you. We all miss you, but we are helping each other heal the hurt that you leaving us has put in our hearts.

I love you, Sissy, and I will always miss you but I am so happy to know you are in a better place. I am so happy you're not suffering anymore and I can only imagine all the cool people you are meeting up in heaven! I'll see you again someday.

Love,
Iss

I miss this...

The First of Many

When we knew that Anna's life was coming to an end, there were several conversations between family members and I about what life would be like without her and how we would go on. One conversation in particular stuck out to me because it was something that had not crossed my mind before.

While eating lunch with my uncle, we were discussing Anna's impending death and how unfair it seems.
"Nothing will ever be the same," he pointed out. He went on to talk about our annual family reunion, her birthday, and every holiday after she passes away and how they would never be the same.

Today, on the first holiday we have experienced since Anna passed away, I realize how true those words are. Nothing will ever be the same. And today? It wasn't the same. My heart broke for my dad as he experienced his first father's day without one of the people who made him a father. As we ate dinner as our new family of 3, it was clear things were not the same. There was something missing. Someone, to be exact. My mom picked out gifts for him she thought Anna would pick out. But she wasn't here to deliver them. She wasn't here to wish my dad a Happy Father's Day, or to give him a hug.

As I reflected on this bittersweet holiday, I came to the realization that this is the way things will be from now on. Not just holidays, but every happy moment from now on. We will still enjoy the holidays and the happy moments in life, of course but a part of us will be hurting. Our hearts will ache from the pain that losing Anna has caused. We will wish that she was here, but we will also take comfort in the fact that she is here in spirit and that she is in a better place. Nothing will ever be the same, how could it be? But this life without Anna, this new normal is in place of how things were before and we have to make that the best it can be. We have to take things one step at a time, and today we accomplished one step; we made it through the first holiday. Sure, there will be many more to come but we can at least take comfort in the fact that we know now we can do it.

The two luckiest girls in the world to have such a great dad..

One Week

One week ago today, my sister went to be with God in heaven. One week. Normally such a small, insignificant amount of time but in this case it feels like forever.

This past week has been filled with emotions I hoped to never have to experience; anger, regret, sadness, disbelief and so much more. This past week has been filled with events I hoped to never have to attend; a memorial at mine and Anna's alma mater, her visitation and funeral. This past week has been one of the worst of my life, and yet I know I have only just begun the grief process.

Monday night at her visitation, several people got up and spoke about her life. One of which being my Uncle Dan. He started out his speech with "My God, My God why have you forsaken me?" and went on to explain that this is how he felt in regards to Anna's death. In a word, angry. To say he is alone in these feelings would be ridiculous, however, I am not one who shares these feelings. I completely understand why other people would feel angry and perhaps as I continue this grieving process, I will be later on. But for now? How could I be angry? And whom should I be angry with? God? What good does that do me? What good does being angry at all do me?

Am I upset that we lost Anna? More than I can say. Do I miss her? Every minute of every day. But am I angry? No.

I have known for awhile that Anna's life was coming to an end. Especially in the last week or so of her life; things were declining fast, and I knew it wouldn't be much longer. So, instead of praying for God to heal her (although I still desperately hoped he would) I prayed for understanding. If God was going to take her from us, there had to be a reason. A damn good one, I'm sure. So, I prayed for him to grant me the understanding of what exactly that plan was. To show me why he needed her more than we do here on Earth. And I believe that after her death, he truly opened my eyes and showed me what he needed her for.

Her purpose here on Earth was to touch peoples lives and to inspire people to be better. I have seen first hand in the past week how many lives she touched and inspired. People she's never met and who have never met her are inspired by her. They just hear her story and are inspired. First, it was the memorial at our high school. People got up and spoke about their memories with Anna and how they were better for knowing her. Even people who didn't know her spoke about how they wish they would've gotten the chance and they felt so disadvantaged for not knowing her. And even though they didn't know her, they too were inspired by her. The outpouring of people that showed up for the memorial and the funeral Monday and Tuesday made it clear how many lives she touched. People from all over loved her.

Did she have to die for that? Couldn't she have continued to touch lives from here on Earth? I don't know. I have no doubt that she would continue to touch lives, but all of us here on Earth are better off for knowing her. Now it's time for her to touch some people up and heaven and live out whatever other big plans God has for her because I'm sure he has some.

So although my heart is broken and I wish she didn't have to die, I am not angry. I'm sad. I miss her. I wish she could come back, but be healthy. In some ways, it feels like just yesterday I saw her beautiful face, that we were laughing together and gossiping about boys. In other ways one day without her feels like forever, so a week feels like a lifetime. I will miss her forever. I have a lot more grieving to do, I am sure but I have no doubt that Anna has given her strength to me and that is what's helping me get through this.


This video was made in honor of Anna, by her great friend. It was played at the memorial and it is a great representation of what a wonderful life she lived. She will be missed by all, but will continue to touch lives, no doubt about it.

Dear Anna

Dear Anna,

Today* we celebrated your life during a beautiful memorial service. All your friends and family and people you didn't even know gathered together to honor you.

Today was a day I've been dreading since you went to heaven; I know I already said goodbye to you, but this would be so final, so real. I was scared about whether or not I could handle it. I thought about how strong you always were, and how strong you would want me to be, and I hoped I could do it for you.

Today, I know you were with me, Anna, because you gave me your strength. Although it was a tough, emotional day, I was able to hold it together and be strong. I've been thinking a lot about what I learned from you, and what traits you "passed on" to me. You were always more concerned with others than yourself; that was said over and over today and it is so true. You never told your friends you were dying because you didn't want them to be sad. You didn't want me, and Mommy and Daddy to be sad either. You would do whatever you could to make everyone else happy. I think you passed that trait on to me, because this past week  I have been thinking a lot about everyone elses feelings. When your friends are around and they are sad, I just want to take that pain away from them. I don't even think about my own pain because I am concerned with how they are doing. I am sure that is you transferring that responsibility onto me and I am so glad. You would be so proud to see how much your friends and I have bonded. We are really getting through this together, and even though no one could or ever will replace me, they are like my sisters now.

Today, everyone celebrated you. It was just the way you would want it. It wasn't too sad, or cheesy. Everyone wore purple or bright colors instead of black; you said black was too sad and depressing. You never wanted anyone to be depressed. Everyone talked about what a special person you are and how you impacted so many lives. You should be so proud of yourself. I'm sure you are a big deal up in heaven because prayers have been flooding for you the past year and a half. You are always on my mind, Anna, but today, sitting in Prince of Peace during mass brought so many memories back. Remember how we used to be so bored in church we'd play that chopsticks game you made up? Or when we would laugh at Mommy for crying at the sad songs? Remember when we would bring the church booklets home and "play" church? Sometimes we'd even baptize our baby dolls! Those are special memories that I will never forget, Anna.

Today, you would be so proud of some of your best friends. Katherine, Maggie, Lexi, Tara and Allie all got up and spoke about you and how much you meant to them. I know you gave them the strength to do that, because that is not easy. You would be so touched by all the nice things they said about you. There is no doubt that you changed their lives forever.

Today, your favorite band Manchester Orchestra was here to help us celebrate your life. I have no doubt that you played a huge role in making this happen. When I talked to the Tour Manager tonight, he pointed out how the timing of everything worked out perfectly; they happened to be in town the night of your high school graduation so you could go up on stage and get serenaded by Andy, and how they happened to have just ended their tour so they could be here tonight. Those kind of things don't just happen, Anna. They came to the service at church and got to hear how many lives you touched and hear how touched you were by meeting them. Clearly, the feeling was mutual; they adore you, Anna. They talk so highly of you and how it was such a great honor to meet you. They even came to Aunt Cathy and Uncle Dan's to put on a private show for your friends and family. It was pretty amazing, but you already know how awesome they are!

I can't believe it's been almost a week since you've been gone. I know tomorrow is gonna be another tough day, but I have no doubt you will be there passing on your strength that you are so infamous for to me. I don't know why you chose me to give your strength to; maybe it's because you knew I would need it the most because you're my only sister. Maybe it's so I could carry out your legacy and help others be strong. You taught us all how to be strong, Anna, and I am sure glad you did. It is so hard to be without you, and I'd do anything to get you back but I know you're in a better place now. I can't wait to meet again someday. Until then, we'll all float on!

Love you more than you know.

"Iss"

P.s. I know you already got your own private serenade of this song, but Andy sang it to us tonight and it was pretty spectacular, so I thought you should see.

*This post was originally scheduled for last night, so change today to yesterday, etc. 

The Post I Never Wanted to Write

June 8 started off like any other day; I got up, got dressed and ready for work. Before I left, I had a conversation with my mom that weighed heavily on my heart. She told me that gone were the days when we could have an actual conversation with Anna; she had been sedated by the doctor yesterday and even though she could probably hear us, she wouldn't be able to respond. She said she thought that every morning before I go to work and every night I should just lay with her so she could feel my presence. So we could spend time together, even if she wasn't awake. That morning, I had a meeting to get to and I was running late so I didn't even say goodbye to her.

Later that day, I got a call from my dad at work saying that I should come home as soon as I can, Anna wasn't doing well. She was having trouble breathing. I didn't understand from the phone call how serious things were until my Uncle Dan came down to the front desk, got the receptionist who I was covering for to come back and told me we needed to get to my house. Only then, did I begin to understand that it was serious to say the least.

When I got home, it was clear things weren't good before I even stepped foot in the room where Anna was. People were in the living room and everyone was crying. I set my stuff down as my other uncle gave me the lay of the land; she wasn't breathing well, and she may not have much longer so I should go back there and be with her. So I went back there. My mom was laying on the bed next to Anna, my dad sitting next to her. They were both crying. My mom's friend was reading the latest Caring Bridge update to Anna. I sat down on the bed next to her feet and watched as she struggled to breathe. She didn't look scared, she didn't look in pain, but it was clear she wasn't doing well.

I wanted to run away. In fact, I did for a minute, to the game room to send a text to my friend (before you judge, please know this is how I cope. I needed my closest friends to know what was going on, to support me). I felt like I was going to throw up. I hugged one of my Aunts who was there and told the people who came in to check on me "I just needed a minute". I said I needed a minute, but what I meant was I needed this to stop. I needed someone to say "April Fools. Anna's fine after all. Don't worry, this was just a scare". Instead, I was told to "be strong", that Anna needed me. My dad came out and told me it was ok to be scared and sad, but that Anna would want me to be there with her. So I went back.

I laid down on the bed next to her and held her limp hand. "I love you, Anna," I whispered to her. "I love you so much." There were so many other words. Just a little bit ago, I had been texting one of her best friends discussing how no matter what happens to Anna we would always be sisters, Anna's friends and I. I wanted to tell her that; tell her that her best friends and I would take care of each other. How they would be like sisters to me, so she didn't have to worry about me. How I would miss her every second of every day of the rest of my life, but I would be okay. My dad had told me that Anna was worried about leaving us, she wanted to make sure my parents and I would be okay, so I wanted to tell her that I would be, even if I wasn't sure if that were true. But as I laid there and watched her struggling to take her last breaths, all I could do was cry. I couldn't speak except to say "I love you".

It wasn't much longer after I got there when she stopped breathing. My mom let out a cry that someone described as a sound that only a mother who has lost their child makes. "I'm not ready to let her go," she cried. I squeezed her hand, wishing I could take away all this immense pain we were all feeling. "She's with God now," my Dad told us. We said a prayer together, hugged each other and cried a lot.

When it happened, my first feeling was relief. Relief that this horribly scary thing was over. Relief that she was no longer in pain. Relief that she didn't suffer. Relief that I was there and got to say the things I wanted to say.

These last couple of days have been a whirlwind of emotion filled with tough decisions about funeral arrangements and casket options. Something parents should never have to think about for their child. Anna's friends have been over here all the time, and personally I am so grateful. They are the piece of Anna I have left and they mean the world to me. Together, we share our memories of her and help her live on through the bonds we have created which have only grown stronger these last 2 days. When something happens, we say "What would Anna say to this?", someone nails it and we all smile, remembering her.

I can't believe she's only been gone for 2 days. It feels like a lifetime. And I know it will last that long. As a sister, I can't help but think of all the events in my life I will have to partake in without my sister. She won't be there to see me graduate next year. She won't be able to decorate my first apartment like we planned. She won't be the Maid of Honor in my wedding. She won't get to meet my children. And of course, she won't get to have any of these moments either, which breaks my heart even more. She missed out on so much of life, but yet she truly made the most of her short 18 years on this earth.

I wish so badly heaven had an elevator or Skype. I just want to see her face again. I miss her face so much it hurts. I miss that beautiful smile of hers. I miss her sarcastic, witty sense of humor. I miss her laugh. I even miss the way she rolled her eyes at me or the way she would get frustrated with me. It is hard to imagine ever feeling okay again when she won't ever be back, but I know one day I'll be able to come to peace with it.

There is so much more to say, to feel and to process. But that will take time. The rest of my life perhaps. I may never be the same, but I will do my best to live with my new normal. One of Anna's favorite songs was "Float On" by Modest Mouse, and there is a picture going around Facebook with some lyrics to this song in remembrance of Anna. It is my phone background, and every time I get sad I read those words; "Alright, don't worry, even if things get a bit too heavy, we'll all float on." I know that Anna would want me to keep floating on and to not be sad. So, that's what I am trying to do. I may not always be able to, and I know being sad is a part of the process so I will allow myself to feel that too.

Anna was truly the best sister I could ask for, and she was my best friend. I will miss her for the rest of my life, but I know that is exactly how long her love will last.

In loving memory of Anna Lee Basso 5/10/93-6/8/11