Daniela
These last few days, I've been overcome with grief over her again. The other night, I threw up in the middle of the night after I made myself sick thinking about how much I miss her. She was such an angel. I still can't understand that she's no longer here. She was so wonderful. She was a hilarious comedian, a helpful hand, a constant hug waiting to happen, a caring sister and daughter, an adventurous Girl Scout, a rebellious teenager, a great friend, a creative artist (even if she did lack talent), a lazy bum, a dedicated volunteer, extremely brave (especially when it came to medical and hospital stuff), a 'fraidy cat, a good student and about a billion other things rolled into one.
I miss her hugs, tickles (even if they did annoy me at the time), thumb wrestling, hand hugs, up-hugs, rubbing her tummy, tucking her in, kisses, the "one, two, three wipey wipey wipey"s that followed, and another thousand physical things that I no one else can imitate. I miss the sound of her voice, her scent, her smile, the feel of her skin, and brushing her hair. I miss her jokes, her cackle, her funny voices, having someone to talk in a funny voice to, cartoons, her Simpsons obsession, having someone to watch cartoons and be obsessed with, cuddling in Mom and Dad's bed watching those cartoons, Build-a-Bears running the house, constantly being whined at to go to B-A-B, having someone to put before myself in every way and taking her to the pool. I miss her sense of independence, and when it clashed with her laziness (independence usually won), her constant need for hugs, her little songs that she made up (in my head, in my mind, in my BRAIN), singing Tango:Maureen and other RENT songs with her, having someone to take care of, having nap contests with her and her possessive attitude toward her food and treats.
I miss her always saying how much she loved her whole family. I miss her saying "I love you." I miss her.
I miss her hugs, tickles (even if they did annoy me at the time), thumb wrestling, hand hugs, up-hugs, rubbing her tummy, tucking her in, kisses, the "one, two, three wipey wipey wipey"s that followed, and another thousand physical things that I no one else can imitate. I miss the sound of her voice, her scent, her smile, the feel of her skin, and brushing her hair. I miss her jokes, her cackle, her funny voices, having someone to talk in a funny voice to, cartoons, her Simpsons obsession, having someone to watch cartoons and be obsessed with, cuddling in Mom and Dad's bed watching those cartoons, Build-a-Bears running the house, constantly being whined at to go to B-A-B, having someone to put before myself in every way and taking her to the pool. I miss her sense of independence, and when it clashed with her laziness (independence usually won), her constant need for hugs, her little songs that she made up (in my head, in my mind, in my BRAIN), singing Tango:Maureen and other RENT songs with her, having someone to take care of, having nap contests with her and her possessive attitude toward her food and treats.
I miss her always saying how much she loved her whole family. I miss her saying "I love you." I miss her.