Remembering.

So tonight, like 5 minutes ago actually, I got into a conversation about my "story." I don't have the most interesting life.

I am a born and raised MO child.

There are only two parts of my story I feel have any worth telling.

1. The fact that I was adopted. (maybe a story for another post) &&
2. The story about the girl from Belarus that stayed with my family for 3 summers.

The second is the one I will be blogging about tonight. I don't have a whole lot to say. Really, just the facts. She is a year younger than me. She lives in Belarus (a small country between Poland and Russia.) And she is, for all intents and purposes, my sister. I haven't seen or spoken to her in almost five years, but I think about her often. She didn't speak any english. We bonded over The Lizzie McGuire Movie and other Disney classics. We fought a lot, but we still loved each other. She has a brother in Belarus, but other than that, no siblings. One day, she told the interpreter that she has a sister. She described the girl she called her sister, and it was very obvious that she was speaking of me. I love and miss that girl so much.

For every summer she was here, it added 7 years onto her life. In case you can't do that math. We gave that beautiful, joyful, amazing girl 21 more years to live. It wasn't hard. A little expensive, but worth it, because the truth is, she affected me and my life just as much, if not more.

There are plenty of things I could say about this girl, but words aren't enough.

Here are just a few pictures of the two of us.