Happy Birthday to Missy

I wake up thinking It's Missy's birthday. Then, before I've even taken a sip of my coffee, I call her cell phone just to hear her voice say. "Hi, you've reached Melissa. I can't come to the phone right now, but if you'll leave your name and number, I'll get back with you as soon as I can." I loved her voice. Even though she was my youngest sister, she often used that voice to calm my fears, calling me "Silly," and telling me not to worry. (As in, "Don't worry, Silly. I'm going to beat this thing.")

Missy's been gone over a year now, so this is the second birthday we've had without her. Since it's her birthday, I'm not the one who gets to make wishes. But if I could, it would go something like this...

I would make my phone call, but instead of getting the anticipated message about her not being able to come to the phone, I would hear, "Hi Poley!" (That's what she called me sometimes. She was my Roley.)

I can feel goosebumps as I imagine myself saying, "What?!! Are you really there, Roley?"

"Sure I am. There's a rule up here that not very many people know about. If you have a sister who's eight years older than you, and whose birthday is in the same month as yours, and if she loves everything about you, even the hard, stubborn parts, and if she misses you so much that she calls to wish you a happy birthday even though she knows you won't answer, and if it's the second time she's done that, then you get to answer your phone!

"Wow! That's awesome! (Awesome run-on sentence, too.)"

"So what did you want to tell me--besides happy birthday?"

"Well, aside from the obvious--that I love you and can't stop wishing you were still here--all kinds of stuff. I want to tell you that every time I talk to Alex on the phone, I have an overwhelming urge to call you and tell you what an amazing mom you were. Every time we talk, he remembers something that the two of you did together, or something you told him. He's keeping you alive, that's for sure. And Avery. I always want to ask if you've seen her facebook posts. She loves college so much. She seems so well-rounded and happy. I love seeing posts about her with her awesome friends. I'm so glad you guys found Aquinas. It seems like a perfect match for her. This morning she made me smile by posting something about you having coffee with Mary, just like you always pictured Mom doing.

"Roley, you know what I really miss? Your laugh. I have a lot of things to tell you that I know will make you laugh. You know--husband and kid stuff. So many Charlie stories. Oh, how I wish you could have gotten to know a little more of her. She's every bit as funny as Meagan was. And Ryder! It breaks my heart to know that you never got to hold that little guy--who's not so little anymore. Did you hear that he's going to have a baby brother?!

"Hey, I found a bunch of stuff that you wrote. I had printed out a bunch of those silly Webshots messages we used to send to each other. Remember those? God, you were so funny! I also found the blog you wrote for Meagan when she got married. In it, you reminisced about how you'd come over to my house every day after school to see her, and how sometimes you babysat for her. You said how much you'd hated it when we moved away, and you could only write letters. That made me so sad. I wished we'd never moved. Who knows what our lives might have been.

"Did you know that I've renewed my interest in writing? It makes me feel closer to you somehow. I always try to imagine what you would say when you read my stuff. I loved it when we used to do our "assignments." The things you wrote are so precious to me now. I'm in an on-line writing class, and they asked us to think about why we write. I had an answer, of course, but I just thought of another one--I think everyone should write, just so they can leave a piece of themselves behind for the people who love them to find. You served us well in that regard, Mel.

"Well,I guess I've done most of the talking again. I'm sorry. I'll try to be real quiet the rest of the day so I can hear what you're saying. I'm crying, but that's okay. I kind of woke up wanting to cry this morning.

"Happy birthday, Shitbiscuit. I'm going to go put on my Fuckbucket bracelet now."