Vivid Memories

This is just a quick little entry because I thought of something random about Mikelle. I figure no matter how short an entry, it's good to write as often as possible.
 So while putting my son to bed, and reading bedtime stories to him, he was sounding out some "sight words". It lead to a discussion about how to spell a million different things. Of course. Anyways he said "closer kuh-kuh-closer. Closer starts with K. K makes the kuh sound just like closer". It was adorable by the way. I told him that it actually starts with C. That's when I remembered something.
When I was young and expanding my reading skills, Mikelle would get a kick out of me trying to read ingredients on different boxes or cans etc. I pronounced sugar like "cigar" one time, and I can vividly remember Mikelle's huge smile spread across her red face and excited laugh. She was completely unable to contain herself, and choking from the laughter. Covering her mouth and saying "she just said cigar!!". Same goes for my mom and dad who were laughing right along with her. I of course enjoyed being the center of attention. I am pretty sure they had me read 3 or 4 different words on this box before informing me of my mistake. This proceeded to be a nightly tradition at dinner time for a while.
I love remembering goofy things like that. I especially love when I can actually see her face in my mind, clearly, and perfectly. It's rare now, being able to see her as something other than the missing poster picture. I forget how she sounded and moved. I absolutely cherish these moments when I remember. When I feel like I am reliving it.
Today has been rough, lots of errands and in and out of the car. Tayven was seriously testing my patience all damn day. I have a headache. I haven't been feeling well. I was in a horrid mood right up until I pictured Mikelle laughing. Now I sit here smiling (and crying) and feeling ever so grateful to have my stubborn child testing my patience. Side note, he hugged me and rubbed my head and told me he loved me to the moon and back before going to sleep. (Melting!) Even on my hardest days, even when I am ready to punch the wall, or scream into a pillow, I try to remember how lucky I am. Despite everything that has happened, despite this tragedy, I have not lost my child. I do not know the pain my parents do. I honestly can't fathom how I would go on with out Tayven, no matter the circumstance. For that, I thank you Mikelle. In the most random, round about way, you have taught me patience, and gratefulness in ways that I never thought I would know. Also I thank you for your laugh, and your smile, and your mischievousness. Oh so sly! That reminds me of another time..
I remember when I finished cleaning my room I told my mom it was clean. Either Mikelle offered to check it or my mom asked her to go check it. Not sure which, but she came back after about 10 seconds and said "I checked it" and my mom said "ok? is it clean?" her response "I don't know I just checked it". At some point after a back and forth between them we all walked to my room and my mom said "show me how you checked it" and so Mikelle proceeded to walk up to the wall in my room and with her finger "drew" and check mark on the wall. She burst out laughing and said "see!? I checked it! get it?" and walked away quite amused with herself.
She also brought my dad a milkshake one time. When he saw it he said "that's a glass of milk". She said "No I made you a milkshake". I was curious so I asked her to make me one. I followed her to the kitchen where she poured a glass of milk and then shook it. Handed it to me and said "Milk! Shake!". I was not amused but she giggled and was obviously proud of herself.
We both get our sarcastic humor and "punny-ness" from our dad I think. Actually all of us kids got that.
Now that I am sitting here just typing anything that comes to mind, it feels really good. I am remembering more and more little tid bits. So much for a short entry! But in all seriousness if I sat here long enough I could write dozens of little memories. Some I remember more than others. But I am grateful for them. I wish my siblings had them the way I do. Nathan of course has some but he was only 4 (actually about to be 5) when it happened. But Lynelle was only 9 months old. Sometimes I actually feel guilty when sharing memories because she doesn't have any. I have to remind myself that she likes to hear these things because it keeps Mikelle real, and alive in her mind. Stories are all she can have of her big sister. So I will tell them to my dying day. Lynelle I love you, and I wish you knew firsthand how much you are similar to Mikelle. Your artistic ability especially! I consider myself very lucky and proud to be your big sister but still deeply wish I was just one of your sister here to tell you like it is, and support you no matter what. Mikelle would have been one bad ass big sister. I can just imagine her putting her slyness into play in her teens. Nathan speaking of similarities, you and your epic dad jokes and goofiness is such a likeness to Mikelle. I don't know if you know that but you are as funny and smart as her. I am so proud of who you are and am constantly amazed by your knowledge and passion to learn. It really reminds me of her so much. I love you and I hope you know the connection you have with Mikelle.
Alright so apparently this entry turned into a letter to my siblings. Sorry not sorry. Well as I said before I could go on and on but I think I will save more stories for a later date, when I am not ready for bed! Thank you all for reading, and learning about who Mikelle was. I want people to know her as a unique person. Not just a picture on a flyer.
Mikelle I love you. Thank you for the vivid memories.

Back At It

I am probably the worst at keeping up with my blog. I can't remember passwords or logins to save my life and I procrastinate writing to avoid the emotional process. But here I am, passwords changed, and in the right mindset.
I am currently working on a draft for my "book" which is mostly an idea right now. I also may have some plans that will be unveiled in the near future. I am truly trying to pursue my dreams of being a writer and getting justice for Mikelle. I figured regularly writing on my blog will help me stay inspired and keep me constant.
I recently attended the 3rd annual Missing in Arizona event. It was as always beneficial. But this year I experienced some feelings I didn't quite expect. Disconnect and numbness almost. Though opposite of that I did connect with new victims as well as old, some people that I have quickly grown to care about. But I realized my disconnect was coming from my lack of perseverance. I started to think about why I wasn't putting in the effort to write. Why I was shielding myself from the emotions of pursuing justice. It all comes from my anxiety and PTSD. I am no doctor nor have I "officially been diagnosed" but it doesn't take a doctor to say "uh yeah you've been through some serious trauma and it affected you". It has just been over this past year that I have come to the actual realization that I do have anxiety and PTSD. I actually say them aloud now. I acknowledge it as something to deal with and work through, rather than deny its existence and not cope. Recently the anxiety has caused severe sleep paralysis that comes with auditory hallucinations, nausea, and complete lack of energy or desire to do anything. I hate it. I absolutely abhor my anxiety. Some days, like today, I feel like it completely controls me. I am tired. I am pissed off. Right now, I feel completely jipped. I was robbed of my childhood, the opportunity of having a big sister, the ability to live life with out anxiety. I was cheated. I rarely express my anger on the subject. In every interview I say I want justice. True. I say I want peace. True. I never say "I am absolutely fucking livid". I'm tired of pretending to be more fine than I am. People always comment on how well I handle myself when interviewing or talking about it. Which I do appreciate. And I do handle myself well because I want to. I want to speak level headed and reach out. But sometimes I want to fall apart. I don't. I pretend. I always have. I have always held it together. For my siblings and my parents (which I do not regret at all). But also to spare other peoples feelings. I don't like to make people uncomfortable by talking about it. By yelling or swearing or crying. But that's what I want to do sometimes. I think that's fair and totally normal. So why have I been hiding it?
I am Kimber. My sister was taken. I am angry. I have been traumatized. And I am done pretending I am not. So here I am back at it again, I'm not holding back anything anymore.