Carrie Jane Foresee June 1, 1980-September 3, 1996

Carrie-Bear,

I really can't believe it's been a decade today since you passed away from us. I remember thinking at the time that someday it would get easier to bear; at some point I wouldn't miss you so much. I realize now that is foolish, for although I carry you with me always, you are always too far away, and I miss you terribly.

I still believe you were there with me that night, in our old room at home. I can still remember so vividly the weight (your weight) on the bed as you told me that you would speak to me in dreams so we could remain close, and you have, although maybe not as much lately, when my mind is so full of other clutter.

I've never felt sorry for you; you are perfect, full of knowledge and with the Lord. I know Heaven is a much funnier place with you there. I do, however, feel sorry for myself almost daily, and I'm sorry if that is selfish, but there are so many things I wish we could share in this life. Of course I wish you were here to be a real, tangible part of Ainslie's life. Although she does still look primarily like Craig, she is looking more like me, and if you put pictures of all three of us at age 2 in a row, we all look like the same girl. She has your sense of humor. She thinks Booger is a hilarious word. She has some of your facial expressions, which is such a blessing, but also a constant reminder that you are not here with us. She almost has your birthday, and she was conceived on a cycle that began September 3rd. I wonder if you and she met before she came here.

I often wonder what you'd be doing in your life by now, at the ripe old age of 26. Your friends are getting married and having babies. Sometimes I think you'd be a globetrotting educator, like Heather, and other times I think maybe you would have been perfectly content to live in Slater like you talked about...but I think you'd be seeing more of the world.

I'm slowly turning into Mom, and you are not here to slap me like you always said you would.

You know, I learned so many lessons from you, the Much Littler Sister, and I am still learning from you and your exuberance. Somehow, at 16, you knew what was really important and what was just silly. Fortunately, we all learned that sometimes the silliness is what is really important.

Today really shouldn't be sadder than any other day; it's just such a milestone. 10 years. In 6 more years you will have been gone as long as you were here, yet your time here will always seem larger. Until Ainslie, you were the one person in the world genetically most similar to me, and even with our age difference, you know, we just had that connection. We get each other.

As much as I miss you, mostly I am terribly grateful that of all the sisters in the world, I got to be yours. I'll see you someday--I expect you to be right there to teach me some more.

Love You Always,
Sissy