Jacob's Words

I am so proud of Jacob. 

He was such a wonderful big brother to his little sister and she loved him so much. Any time someone mentioned to Lily what a pain brothers could be and asked if she got along with hers, she would always say yes-- and let them know her brother was different. He was nice and funny and let her hang out in his room even when his friends were over. 

It must have been hard for Jacob to have so much of our attention directed at Lily for so long, but he never complained. He was always mature and understanding and concerned about his sister. And she, in turn, looked up to him and could only think of good things to say about him. They had a strong, loving bond that will always remain. 

He surprised us all by speaking during Lily's memorial on Thursday. He was so sincere, and spoke so directly from his heart; we were all touched. He called Lily honest and powerful, funny and artistic-- and it is true, she was all of these things. But so is he! 

I've been so blessed to have children with such beautiful, wise old souls.

Here are his wonderful words of remembrance for his sister:

We miss you, Lily.

You taught us the meaning of life itself, to enjoy yourself no matter what ailments hold you down.

You showed us it was possible to be strong and happy no matter how much time you have left to feel it.

You were honest, and powerful. You will always be the one thing that holds us together.

When we were little we played together and laughed. The weather outside was always warm and inviting.

I remember when you first became sick. You only complained about minor back pain. It wasn't until the first week in the hospital you admitted it was much worse than that, only after we asked you to tell the truth a dozen times.

I remember you would always ask me to draw with you. I would always say no, and tell you that I couldn't draw as well when other people were looking. When really it was because I felt you were better at drawing than me, and I didn't want to be embarrassed.

I remember when Mergence played for you in our backyard. You and mom and dozens of others danced and laughed together. Just the thought of the joy I felt for you still makes me cry.

I remember when you were too sick to go outside. I played with you on the couch. I would voice your stuffed animals and try to be as funny as possible. You were always more comedic than I could have ever hoped to be.

I remember when you couldn't feel your legs anymore. You didn't complain or cry, not once. All you did was let us know.

I remember when mom took you away to the nursing home because taking care of you becoming too difficult. She stayed there with you. I stopped going to school just so I could visit you daily.

I remember how you were always happy, and would sit in bed painting tea cups with mom all day. Even though your hands were getting more and more numb and unusable as the days went by.

I remember hearing how you made the nurses set up a tea party, with fancy dresses and hats, British accents and make-up. I wish I was there to see it. You were almost always asleep when I came to visit you.

I remember your smile when you were awake to hear me say "I love you."

I remember when dad called me that night after I left you, to tell me that you had passed away.

I held your cold hand as mom told me your last words, enough to write a small book.

I cried, but felt happy that you were finally done suffering.

We all stayed up all night, just so we could sit beside you. But eventually, we had to leave.

The sun was coming up by the time we made it home. Your bedroom was as empty as our hearts.

I slept from morning till night that day, and mom and dad invited me to go with them and their friends to Adam's house.
 

We drove through the freeway and into the desert to meet them. The stars were bright out, away from the city. The Milky Way was visible over our heads. Everyone drank and laughed and talked. We set up a campfire among the cactus and rocks. Eventually, Adam and Brandon started playing songs on their guitars. Soon, they offered to play your favorite song, "White Bark." They played and sang, and we all listened with smiles on our faces.
 

When the song was finished, everyone was silent. There was no sound but the crackle of the fire. We all remembered you, just as you remembered us before you passed. I started to cry silently, keeping as straight of a face as I could as tears streamed from my eyes. Mom hugged me and told me she loved me. Dad soon hugged both of us. I wish you could have seen us. Maybe you did.
 

By midnight, the members of the band played one last song. We gathered around and shouted to the glowing night sky, "We love you, Lily!" Just like we did at the party when everyone was dancing months before. Everyone then said their goodbyes and we all went home. Then I wrote this.

You brought us together, and you were fearless in the face of death until the very end.

You accomplished more in thirteen years than most could have done in ninety. 

You will inspire and bring joy to us for generations to come. 

I love you, Lily. Being your older brother was the greatest thing that I could have ever asked for. 

Goodbye.