A Picture with Santa

I've been stingy with my memories of Laura. I think I thought that if I shared them, then I would lose the bond I had with her. I don't know if that makes sense to anyone but I do know that everyone handles grief differently and that's how I have handled mine.

For those of you who may not know what I am talking about, my husband's sister, Laura, was 25 when she was killed in a car accident last March. Our family has struggled an incomprehensible amount with this tragedy. We have all dealt with it in our own ways. My way has been to not talk about it very much. One thing that the whole family has been similar in wanting is a piece of what was hers. Josh asked his mom for a particular piece of art she had done. I wanted a picture that she had taken with Jackson and Santa. I searched for that picture all over Pat's house. I have been asking people about it for months. The last time I talked about the picture, I decided that I didn't really remember everything correctly and that there must not really be a picture. I was starting to put it out of my mind.

Then the other day, Pat called and said, 'Santa's sitting in the chair and Laura looks the most beautiful I ever saw her and Jackson is sitting on her lap.' I swear I'm not being dramatic when I say that I screamed. I don't know if I was more excited to know I wasn't going crazy or to know that I was going to get to keep the picture.

Here's the story behind the picture. Laura called and asked if she could come get Jackson. She loved Jackson like crazy. I told her that was fine and when she got to the house he had a t-shirt and those sweats on. She said she could not have him wearing that while he was with her and we grabbed a polo for him to put on. Then they left and spent the day together. She bought him a pair of shoes and took their picture with Santa. She showed me the picture when they got back and I asked if I could have it. Nope. She was keeping it. That was Laura.

Laura was 15 when Josh and I got married. She helped me get into a wreck in a funeral procession where my husband was supposed to be a pall barrer. She taught Jackson how to eat ice while I sat watching, a nervous wreck that he would choke on it. She thought Josh was the perfect man. I was jealous of her when my husband left one night at 10:15 to pick up some medicine and take it to her house. (jealous because he has never once gone anywhere for me at 10:15pm and I birthed 4 children for him) She wouldn't change a stinky diaper for the world. I always tried to set her up with anyone I could. Very often it would be one of the missionaries for our church. We finally had a conversation, and she told me that she might be getting a little too old for them, since they were usually 19-22.

She was beautiful. My baby girl is the spitting image of her. She was frugal with her own money but enjoyed other people's money very much. She was affectionate. She loved to have her hair brushed. She was honest, sometimes brutally, especially about clothes. She would even tell me, 'you're not wearing that? right?'. She was Josh's baby sister and she was a loving (and very cool) aunt to my kids.

What was she to me? I was the baby in my family. I have an older sister. I never had a younger sister. Then I married Josh and gained what I feel like are the younger sisters I never had. Laura and Courtney are my baby sisters. I have loved them and worried for them (even if they didn't always know it) like they were my sisters for years.

She was a friend, sister in law and a blessing to my life. I'm thankful to have had her in it.