This is a personal memorial for my little sister. As I write this I feel selfish that I would write this and publish it but I don’t do it for attention. This is to help me with my feelings, and to help me remember once years have passed. I hope some others can also get something from this as well. You can find her obituary here.
On Sunday, February 26th, I woke up to noticing that my mom posted something on my FB wall. “Oh no, mom never posts on my wall. I hope her account hasn’t been hacked,” I thought. How could I know that so much worse news awaited me?
Her post read to call her immediately. I popped open messenger to ask her to send me her phone number (terrible, I know, I don’t call my mother enough to know her phone number by heart). I was met there by another message from her waiting for me with the same instructions as the one on my wall. I began to worry about my Grandmothers. If mom was being this insistent something must be wrong, I thought to myself.
Mom wasted no time in telling me. My little sister Sara had been in a car accident and passed away the night before. No. No no no. I cried with my mother on the phone then told her that I was going to look into flights and get back to her.
The next few days were a blur. I got my tickets, got my time off, was met with an outpouring of kindness from my coworkers, and did my packing. Almas was with me through all of it. She talked when I wanted to and helped distract me when I didn’t.
Until I made it back to Virginia and saw my mom, I did my best to put Sara out of my mind. No one likes to see a thirty year-old dude crying by himself in an airport. It’s not a good look. But it was a fight to keep thoughts of her away.
Sara was my youngest sister, only 22 when she passed. She would have been 23 this month. She was in the US Air Force. I found out along with the news of her passing that she was married (she had kept it a secret) but I had met her husband, Lucas, before. She was a grown up but most of my memories of her were from when we were kids. By the time she was a teenager I was off on my mission, or in college, or most recently on JET. I saw her only occasionally in person and we didn’t take much time to chat online. I prodded her a couple of times to see if she could get moved to South Korea so we might be able to hang out. It never seemed to be on option.
She was my sister, and although I loved her, I could never say we were as close as she was with my other sister Jennifer. Sara and I were born eight years apart. When she was really little she only called me “brother”. She used to suck on her index finger instead of her thumb since apparently someone told her that if she did it would fall off. She loved all her animals, real and stuffed. She once named a stuffed turtle when I was in the room, declaring that its name would be “turtle-y”. I found out later that the names of her animals got more creative as she got older. One of her cats is named “Mr. Butt”.
She came to visit me in Charlottesville once when she was about to graduate high school and I was in college. We went and toured around the UVA grounds (I was trying to coax her into applying), had dinner, then the next morning went to work out on the playground near my house.
Not long after that she joined the Air force and I left on JET. I think I saw her once or twice more before I left, but after the departure the next time I saw her was in my second year on JET when I came back for Christmas. I came back to VA and she was living in Georgia. Mom and David organized a trip to get the whole family together. Jenny came from PA with Zach and we met Sara and Luke in North Carolina, halfway between our two locations. It was a short visit but we had fun. We wrestled in the hotel room. She was talking a lot of smack leading up to it so I put it to her. Pulled guard, hip bump sweep, Americana from mount. No mercy for the baby sister.
It was another year and a half before I could come to the states again for a visit. She was tied up in Georgia and we didn’t get to see each other. Fast forward nine months and I got those frantic messages from mom on that Sunday morning.
After that initial Sunday, I was able to largely keep back my tears. That is, until the plane landed at Norfolk International Airport and I saw the honor guard receive a coffin draped in an American Flag. How could my little sister be in that box?
The next morning, the funeral home held a private viewing for family. I lost it again when I saw her for the first time. I got to go into the viewing room with her alone, and to talk to her a bit. I told her that I loved her and that I would miss her. She didn’t look exactly the same as I remembered her but she was still my beautiful little sister.
The funeral services were the best that they could be. We had so many friends and family members come from all over to be at the ceremony. Towards the end of the service they allowed anyone who wanted to to come up to the microphone and tell their favorite memory of Sara. It was beautiful, sad, and sometimes hilarious. Luke told a story of one of the first times he talked to her. He was outside a bar and she walked past wearing cowboy boots, jeans, and a button up flannel shirt. To illustrate how he felt at the time he bit his closed fist.
Luke, if you read this, I hope you know that the way you held yourself through all of this was nothing short of amazing. It may not mean much coming from a distant brother-in-law, but you will forever hold my respect.
The Air Force was with mom and David the whole way. They received an enormous amount of support. She received full military honors surrounding her funeral services. The honor guard did their jobs so well and kept everything so solemn and respectful. I jumped and breathed a surprised “fuck!” under my breath when they fired the first of the three volleys. I think Sara would have laughed at me if she had seen me jump.
I am extremely grateful to all of our friends and family, the funeral home, and the Air Force for their support for my family in this impossible time. I am so grateful that I live in age where I can fly across the world in a matter of hours to attend services to say goodbye to someone I care about. Saying goodbye was terrible, but the closure that comes with it is priceless.
My baby sister has been given back to the earth and I will miss her until I join her.
Living in the Pleasant 
Will , thanks for sharing this with all of us. It just adds to my belief of what an incredible young man you are. Hoping you find peace and stay strong!! Bill
Your sister was an amazing young woman,my life was blessed to have the opportunity to know her through the youth at Corinth Baptist Church. So many will keep her in there hearts. And prayers are with you and your family.