Sunday, June 1

Carrie was born on Sunday, June 1, 1980. I remember being scared because I peeked out of my room and saw a shadowy figure asleep on our living room couch early in the morning. I crawled back into bed, until I heard the phone ring, and a strange voice answering the phone, "A girl? Carrie Jane. Oh, wonderful!"

It was Barb, a friend from church, who had come to stay with Chad and I. A new baby sister! A future best friend.

It all hit a little harder than usual this year, on what would have been her 28th birthday, and I know exactly why. Two weeks ago, Pastor B's brother and best friend, who was also 28, also passed away suddenly. Pastor is my age, which means he and his brother share the same age difference as Carrie and I.

Pastor B is really great at his job, and I can't say that for every pastor I've known. He really is right where he should be, in my opinion. As wonderful as I think he is, I was stunned when I saw that he was preaching yesterday.

I speak in front of groups all the time. It's a big part of my profession. Public Speaking does not frighten me in the least; in fact, I've designed courses to help others speak in front of groups. All this goes out the window when it comes to Carrie. I can rarely tell others about her without melting into a soggy mess, even 12 years later.

Pastor B. was talking about the Wise Man and the Foolish Man and where each built his house... "The rain came down on both houses. The rain came down on BOTH houses." Pause. He came clean with us. There has been so much rain on his house that he has not been able to see God.

Amen to that. I remember after Carrie passed, our family minister telling us that it is ok to be mad at God. WELL, HOW COULD WE NOT BE?

Losing a sibling makes you part of an exclusive, horrific club. I happened to sit next to my friend C, yesterday in church, who is about the same age as my mom. Before service, we were talking about Pastor B and how sad we felt for him, and she told me she'd lost 2 of her sisters last summer. Losing a sister hurts.

I don't want to relay the sermon word for word, because it seems almost a private thing, but the congregation applauded Pastor (and Lutherans do not clap for people in church!), a few even stood. I'm proud of him. Hurting with him, hurting with everyone who loses a sibling, that person biologically more like you than anyone--but so proud.

Carrie and Kevin--take care of each other up there.