While I shared this snippet of my feelings on my personal Facebook page earlier this morning, I will expound upon it here on the blog:

On this day in 1968, my beautiful sister was born. There are not enough words to express how much I love her and miss her. Oh how I wish love could have saved her.  Today there is such awareness for the prevention and support with postpartum depression, but that was not the case in 2001 when we lost her.  She is the reason that I will forever speak up and speak out about supporting others and not adding to what others may be going through because you have no idea what they might be struggling with alone in silence. Sadly, she is not the only one that lost this fight as there are many, many others. However, I will not focus on how she died, but I will celebrate her precious life and the love that she gave to those around her. She did not have a large circle of friends, but she had a close family that loves her so very much and would have done anything in this world to save her had we only known. They hide it well, though, to protect the family. We should be celebrating her 56 years with our parents, two nieces (Brittney & Tiffany-Haven), a great nephew (Kingston), a daughter (Melanie) and three grandchildren (Oliver, Gianna, and Danny). My heart breaks for what should have been and for where we are right now. Alas, our hearts still remember her and celebrate her, just in a different way now. Happy Birthday in Heaven, Pamela. I love you far more than you ever knew when you were on this earth. I hope you feel it even still all the way up there in Heaven.

In the year 1968, two beautiful souls welcomed their first child, a daughter!  She was their pride and joy as their stories and the smiles on their faces revealed as they spoke about her.  Two and a half years later, another daughter (me) entered the picture.  We were complete opposites from the very beginning, from our physical features (her with auburn hair and green eyes, and me with blonde hair and blue eyes), to our personalities (her being an introvert and me being a little bit more outgoing but still on the shy side).

My first memories aren’t of us being close as we grew up, as we had a troubled childhood with our mom being sick and us having to grow up way too fast, taking on adult chores around the house at such young ages.  Yet, we grew closer as adults, and I treasured our friendship in our sisterhood.

We had lunch almost daily as we both worked in office settings near each other which afforded us this opportunity.  “Little or big?” was her way of asking if we wanted to grab fast food or have a nice sit-down meal together.

She often teased me for my “hooker red lipstick,” as I wore makeup while she chose to go all natural.  She would also tease me for pointing when I polished my nails or wore “fake nails.”  We don’t realize we’re doing it at times, but it draws attention to that which we are proud of … (i.e. our long beautifully polished nails).

Glamour Shots were so hot “back in the day” (being most popular in the 1980s and 1990s).  She wanted to go but didn’t want to go alone, so we went together for the experience.  When we walked in, they assigned a team of stylists to assist us.  They started the transformation as soon as we sat in the chair.   One lady began immediately on curling and styling our hair, while the other lady started slathering on the makeup.  I’m sure it was almost torture for my sister’s always bare face to have makeup almost caked on for this photography session.  With the harsh bright lighting, they had to put a lot of makeup on so we would have color in the pictures.   We had so much confidence after these sessions where they dressed us up in leather and feather boas and made us feel beautiful.  Ah, but when we walked outside, we were mortified at how orange we looked!

Another favorite memory of mine was when we went to Folly Beach together.  For someone who could not swim, my sister was fearless as she walked out into the water to jump waves.  She turned her back to the waves as they slapped against her, and the biggest smile would form on her face each time the wave pushed her forward.  She would motion for me to join her, and together we laughed like fools as we enjoyed the sun on our faces and the waves slamming into us.  Ah, the good ole days!  We would leave the beach fully refreshed looking like lobsters.

I have so many fond memories of time spent with her as adults, even if I can hardly recall good childhood memories together.

One of my most cherished yet bittersweet memories is of when she became a mother.  I’ll forever remember seeing her in the hospital bed smiling sweetly as she held her newly born daughter in her arms.  Her pride and joy!  Having always been a “picture person,” I got busy snapping pictures for keepsakes to capture that happy moment in time so we would have it to treasure always.  Little did I know that two weeks later, those pictures would bring such heartache and pain as we got the 35 mm film developed.  My sister was suffering from postpartum depression, and even though we, as a family, were with her as often as we could be or she would allow, none of us knew the depths of her despair.  There was speculation that her husband cheated on her.  When she found out shortly after delivering their daughter, the heartbreak she felt was so extreme that it lead to her taking her own life.

I was only able to witness my sister snuggling with her daughter for two weeks, but I know she loved her daughter so much.  I remember conversations when my sister was pregnant, and how she was beaming with pride at her baby shower.

Fast forward to the year 2024, and here I sit writing about our memories and wishing she was here.  Twenty-three years have passed, but I remember … I will always remember.