May Angels Lead You In

"I thought we'd get to see forever, but forever's gone away. It's so hard to say good-bye to yesterday..."

April 12, 2004 was easily the worst, hardest, most devastating day of my entire life. It still makes my heart hurt to think about all the time that has passed between then and now. All the things my precious brother missed out on. Birthdays, weddings, babies being born. I get especially upset on holidays and his birthdays when I think...when I KNOW...that he should be here.

Sometimes when I think back on things that have happened in the past seven years, I can swear to you that Nick was there- even though I know he wasn't. I think about him so much and can feel him all around me so often it's still hard to believe that he's not physically there. I have to go visit the cemetery just to bring myself back to reality.

It's hard when I go through old photographs and come across one that I haven't seen before. There he is, smiling so big his beautiful brown eyes disappear, the red hair and freckles he despised so greatly, and that everyone else adored. It's almost like he puts them purposely where I can find them as as if to say, "Don't forget me!" As if there were any question on the matter, Nick...I could never do that. Anyone that ever had the pleasure of meeting you is forever changed.

I feel guilty when I meet new people. I feel bad that Nick won't ever meet them. I feel even more sorry for them, that they will never get to know Nick. He will never make them laugh - one of his many talents and things he was loved for.

Nick and Me at Grandma Salazar's house

I loved how playful and mischievous he was. I remember his favorite teacher, Mrs. Schoenrock visiting my family often after Nicks' passing. On one occasion she presented my family with a beautiful vase filled with tiny rubber bouncy balls. My mother, naturally, was grateful yet confused at the gesture. Mrs. Schoenrock shared one instance where she had heard a few kids giggling while her back was turned to the class as she wrote on the blackboard. She turned around quickly knew exactly who to focus her attention towards. She knew that with that smile, and with Nick pretending to pay such close attention that something had to be in the works. She turned back towards the blackboard and seconds later, again spun around at the sound of giggling - only to see hundreds of rubber bouncy balls bouncing every which way in her classroom. And there, sitting just as innocent looking as ever...that devilish red head...the culprit...my brother.
  

I loved how loyal and protective he was. Who can forget the time he knocked out the kid in front of the vending machines at school, that had been threatening to harm his teammate and long time friend? He would have done that for anyone. Always looking out for the underdog. Always  protecting anyone who needed someone on their side.

I loved -and often took for granted- how much he loved me. I remember one year at Youth Camp we were paired up into groups for an exercise to learn more about each other. Nick and I sat next to each other while we "interviewed" our partners. Luckily, I was partnered with Casey, one of Nick's best friends. There was only giggling and goofing off going on since we already knew each other well. When Nick's partner asked him, "Who is your best friend?" my heart smiled when my brother replied, "Ashlee is" in front of all the guys he went to school with, played football with, and would have to be tormented by later for his response. He didn't care. And I loved hearing it.

Sometimes I feel like the people that knew me back then, and that knew Nick are the only ones that can truly understand what I'm saying or how I feel. They know what they are missing out on. What everyone is missing out on. It truly breaks my heart.  My friend Jill remembers the anniversary of his death every year. She always sends me flowers on the day with a simple "I Love You" written on the card. What the card really says, to me, is: "I haven't forgotten". For that, I thank you Jill. That is all I can hope for. 

This year on the anniversary, my best friend and I went out for some one-on-one girl grieving time. It helped to get it out there. People have stopped asking me about Nick. I think because they are afraid. Afraid that I don't want to talk about it, or afraid I'm going to cry in front of them (...justifiably so). The truth of the matter is, I LIKE when people ask me about Nick. I love to tell stories of how funny and sweet he was. I feel like talking about him is the best way to ensure that he is never forgotten.

If there is something after this life, I can only hope that I will be lucky enough to be reunited with Nick. Until the day comes, All I have is a hope and a memory. The pictures on the wall change with each passing year. They show change and growth. Everyone gets older. Everyone else's pictures change. Nick will stay on the wall exactly as when he left; forever with that red hair, that smile...he gets to be 16 forever. 

He has my heart. He is my moral compass, and my standard that I hold everyone else in my life to. He is my hope that there is something waiting for me once this great adventure is all over.
He is my happy thought.

 "...I'll take with me the memories, to be my sunshine after the rain. It's so hard to say good-bye to yesterday"