Andrea

A condensed version of some things I wrote. 

I was in 5^th grade when Kyle was a freshman at BYU and started dating Andrea Hastings. That probably puts me at about 11 years old when I met her. As a 23 year old, that means I have known her for more than half my life. How I hoped that was how it would be back then. How we all hoped everything would work out for she and Kyle. How I wanted her for a sister from the moment I met her. Because all who met her wanted her to somehow be in their lives long term. She was just like that. Scatter Sunshine, might be how she described it. And once she left a little of her light on you, you’d understand.

Maybe you were never a little girl, or if you were, you just don’t remember, but all little girls think and dream about what they will be like when they’re older. When you meet older girls, you automatically pick out the ones you hope to be like, look like, act like, sound like, etc. That is just the way it is. As a little girl on the eve of no longer being a little girl, I met Andrea and immediately wanted to be like her. I wanted to have a bright white smile that showed my entire top row of teeth and a little bit of my gums, like her. I wanted long, shiny hair, like her. I wanted a beautiful, clear whistle, like her. I wanted a full, contagious laugh, like her. I wanted the ability of easy conversation, like her. And my sweet brother, who I so looked up to, approved of and loved her, which to me was further proof that she truly was something incredible. And she was.

But I hate saying “was,” because even though it is 12 years later now, and I have known her more than half my life, and even though I did learn to whistle and I have accepted I won’t ever have her smile or hair or laugh or people skills, I can’t seem to fully grasp that she is not here.  

...

In a hotel room on our way to Las Vegas from St. Maarten, we try to distract ourselves with a movie. We end up the floor: me, crying hard, Matt holding me, rocking me, wiping tears on a path down my cheeks that's been well-traveled the past 2 days. He’s held me like this before: when I thought I ran poorly at a big race. He found me crying into the mud between two team tents and knelt down with me, grasping me as I shook. How silly I cried that hard over a race. How could I do this without Matt? How will Kyle do everything without her? 

...

 

Kyle explained their last week together. How so many things worked out. Going to her favorite places, seeing all her siblings, Kyle still being there when he was supposed to have flown back home for work while she and the girls stayed with family. We all let the tears climb down our faces and onto her bed, mine mixed with some of my selfish anger. I haven’t seen her for almost a year. We have been so far away.

Then the horror, the hospital, the irreversible truth. Her sisters have braided her hair and put a bow in it. Kyle has painted her toes, her perfect toes that she loved. He’s asked for extra blankets for his sunshine girl. She loved to be warm. He lets me hold her hand. It is warm, but not hers anymore. He lets me lean close to her face, kiss her forehead, and I tell her a few things I know I told her in real life too. I just sent her a mother’s day card a few months before. I’m so grateful I sent that card. 

As I whispered and cried, and then didn’t really whisper anymore, I knew I was talking to her, but not really to her. She heard, but not through the ears I was directing my voice towards.

Doctors are coming in the room now, it's time to leave. In the hall, I can’t stand anymore. I find a corner and sink down, I let the shaking sobs come out, again. Matt is there, again. How dare I cry like this in front of my brother, while I have a spouse to comfort me? I cry harder at the thought.

Home, Love, Family

I guess we'll just skip the obligatory part about how I haven't blogged in months. If Jess were reading this, I'd say, "You knew what I was when you picked me up."

Anyways...

If I were an organized kind of person, this blog could be broken up into little sections, neatly labeled with pictures to help illustrate what we've been up to. In no particular order, the topics might cover:

1. Matt becoming a 4th semester med student, and a few of the miracles that got us there (the last 10 days of 3rd semester. I NEVER WANT TO REPEAT THEM. And I'm not even the one taking the tests)

2. Home with Mom and Dad Lew: Sleeping in, Lots o' Chinese food, Disneyland, and Newport Beach wedding

3. Rediscovering my love of ultimate frisbee

4. Rediscovering my my ability to enjoy lifting weights

5. Rediscovering that I do like summer, just in California and not the Caribbean

6. In which I become an aunt to my 7th beautiful niece, watch her birth from start to finish, and witness my sister being a wonderful mother

7. In which I play enough guitar to finally develop calluses on my fingers...and probably annoy my neighbors

8. In which I brag about our awesome best friends on the island: the Crookstons, Michelle, the Wrights, the Atteburys. We love hanging out! Beach, pool, church activities, dinners, movies, etc. (Daniels, McGlues, Wightmans, we miss you!)

9. My excitement to work with the Young Women of our LDS branch here in St. Maarten (and yes this is me putting in a plug for any great youth activities you would like to share with me. Thank you in advance)

10. Andrea Hastings Lemmon, my dear brother Kyle, and all of my amazing family.

Yeah, it would go something like that.

But Matt and I are back to living life on the island: Matt in classes, me doing ICM (that thing where I act as a patient so students practice interviewing skills for when they really are doctors); Matt studying for hours on end, me reading an obscene amount of books. And for goodness sake, how many times have I read the book Hunger Games and watched the movie Hunger Games, and wished it wasn't so hot here so I could dress up as Katniss for Halloween while simultaneously using that as an excuse to buy an excellent pair of boots? Too much information? I thought so.

Now, for Andi, who asked Michelle when I'm ever going to blog, (and the answer should be that no one really knows and possibly something about how my blogs come like a thief in the night...) but I want to give a special shout out to you, so here it is: I love your name. I have an older second cousin who names all his cars, and four wheelers and trucks - all the trucks are named Fred - and that influenced me to name my own first car. It was a bright red Dodge Neon and I loved it. At first I picked the name Delilah, but then that "Hey There Delilah" song by the Plain White T's came out, and I don't know it felt overdone. So I picked Andi instead. We sold that car right before we moved here and it was harder than I thought it would be. The point is you have an awesome name.

Well, since I'm not organized, this blog is without a cohesive ending. Instead, I'll bring you home with some pictures. Loves. 

 Jason, Jessica and Emaline moments after her birth. Precious.

 I didn't smile in time, but I really am so happy to be at Disneyland!

 In line for the Matterhorn

Poor Jake had to ride with the boring married's

 Oh, Space Mountain

 Indiana Jones round one

  Indiana Jones round two

 Ryan in fanny pack. Me with sweatshirt tied around my waist. Nerds who are way too excited.

 Car's Land!!!

 Love Matt's face. So much.

 Attempting heel clicking on Main Street in Disneyland.

Matt took me on a surprise date to a cute little park he used to go to as a kid

So excited for a train ride!

Matt really loves this train.

I found two treasures at the rare and used book store in Glendale: a cookbook for Olympians, and a 1953 print of a collection of short stories by Roald Dahl. 

 A typical day at the Glendale Galleria: We saw Nicole Richie as she introduced her new perfume at Macy's

Dad Lew waiting for our car to be brought to the hotel, all tuckered out after wedding partying.



It's over!