Am I me, or am I you?

Who am I?

Well, who are you?

Am I me?

Or am I you?

Why don’t you tell me what you want me to be?

So you want me to be this? Well I can be that too.

You see, I can be most anything.

I can be black or I can be blue.

I will learn what you find most appealing

Then I will become that and make you believe it is true.

So, who am I? What is my identity?

I am only this version of me when I’m around you.

The Hickory Tree

A hickory tree sprouting out of the ground.

A new baby tree, it’s strength still waiting to be found.

This hickory tree continued to grow.

Stronger and taller alongside of the road.

Years and days passed as the Hickory continued to thrive,

Monitoring the safety of all who drove by.

This Hickory took pride in protecting those who passed under his shade

He rather enjoyed his duty of protecting both night and day.

But then one day the Hickory began to feel weak.

He knew it was the help of humans that he must seek.

For days and months the Hickory tried to get our attention.

But the leaning Hickory was rarely a topic of mention. 

He tried and tried with all his might 

To let us know that he was losing his fight.

The Hickory leaned further towards the road he once protected,

He knew he would inevitably cause harm if his poor condition continued to be neglected.

The Hickory wept because he knew the end was near

And falling on a driver was what he most feared.

Then one night the Hickory’s fear came true…

He lost his rooting and landed on a car as it was passing through.

That night proved fatal for not only the tree,

But also for the driver, a brown-haired girl who was only nineteen.

The seventy-foot Hickory crashed right through her windshield.

All of her hopes and dreams shattered, never to be fulfilled. 

Such a beautiful life, stolen right there and then

Leaving so many hearts broken, never to mend. 

An accident they called it, and a bizarre one at that 

But it could have been prevented, and that’s a fact. 

The Hickory tried so hard to seek help

But he was ignored until the night that he fell.

Day after day he leaned over the road

Trying to get help from those who drove below.

But no one stopped to notice the sick Hickory,

So now my sister is dead…killed by a falling tree.

The pain of missing her is greater than any word can describe

And we will be tortured with this pain for the remainder of our lives.

So here we are, just trying to make sense

Of this excruciatingly painful turn of events.

This story may seem too unlikely to be true,

But it happened to my sister and it could happen to you.

Now that you’ve read this story through to the end,

I will leave you with some advice, please share it with friends.

The next time you see a tree leaning toward the road,

Just think of this story and remember that trees too can grow weak and old. 

So do something about the next sick tree that you pass,

Because if it were to fall, then this day could be your last.

In memory of my amazing Kacy. I’ll be missing you.

Love, your big sister.

Dark stains on the asphalt.

At the scene of your death

There is still some evidence left.

When they took your mangled body out of the car

They laid you on the ground because the beating had already ceased from your heart. 

So there on the asphalt your lifeless body laid

And there on the asphalt a blood stain still remains.

So now when I drive down the road and see dark stains in my path

I can’t help but wonder if those too are stains of a life that was taken too fast.

For the sake of possible survivors I say a quick prayer

Because I know all too well what it’s like to feel the pain and emptiness of knowing that you were once there.

When I see your stain on the edge of the road

I can’t help but mourn the stolen pages of your life story that will never be told. 

So to all of you I have this to ask

When you see dark stains on the asphalt please take a moment to remember that any day could be your last.

I have this wound 

I have this wound that just won’t heal.

This wound is deep and exposed nerves I can feel.

I tend to this wound each and every day.

But no matter the treatment, this wound will never go away.

When in public, my wound I must conceal.

So I cover it with a bandage and pretend it’s not real.

But by the time I get home the bandage is soaked from seeping memories of you. 

So I remove the bandage and I am reminded that it is true. 

The day you died is when this wound appeared.

If not treated properly this wound will become infected, I fear.

This wound is not superficial, simply on the surface.

Rather it is deep and gaping, which makes me nervous.

This wound is unsightly, not a sight many others can stand to view.

But this is my wound, and it is this way because of how deeply I loved you.

So I will continue bandaging this wound, to hide it from others.

But each day when I return home I will remove the bandage and allow my memories of you to be uncovered.

They say time heals all wounds, but that just isn’t true.

So I will tend to this wound until again I can see you. 

Since when does Facebook have the right to interfere with death and grief?

My 19 year old sweet baby sister died on June 16, 2016 when a huge tree fell on her Chevrolet Blazer while she was driving down the road. The tree came directly through the windshield, landing on her face…the coroner pronounced her dead on arrival at 12:21am. My best friend, my only sibling, my beautiful little sister…is dead. Kacy would have turned 20 on September 13th. A few days before her birthday, I received a message from a complete stranger informing me that he had requested Facebook to have my sister’s page memorialized. At that moment, my mother and I lost the ability to log into my sister’s page…we no longer could look forward to seeing her memories each day…we could no longer read old messages that we had to and from Kacy from so many years back…it felt as though she had died all over again. Facebook does not memorialize a page only by the request of a “loved one”, rather, they will memorialize a page by the request of ANYONE. Even a complete stranger who was not even friends with the person whose page they want memorialized. My mother and I have lost so many irreplaceable memories of our sweet Kacy all because some random person asked Facebook to memorialize her page…without even asking us, HER MOTHER AND SISTER. When we tried to contact Facebook we were sent automated responses and were denied any help. Kacy’s Facebook page was the one thing that reminded us of how much alive she was…Seeing memories each day of posts that she had typed with her own fingers…pictures that she loved enough to share…her Facebook page was the one place we could visit and feel as if she was still here…still so much alive. Now, we cannot see her memories, messages to and from her, or even share things with our family from her page. Seeing the words “Remembering Kacy Harris” at the top of my sister’s page only serves as a reminder of the gruesome and tragic events of my baby sister’s death. Seeing those words at the top of her page is a cold reminder that she is DEAD. As if waking up each morning to the realization that she is gone isn’t a painful enough reminder, we now must be reminded by Facebook as well. Why do we, her family, not have the authority to decide whether or not we want Kacy’s page memorialized? Why does Facebook have the right to toy with the emotions of grieving families? Why does Facebook have any right to interfere with death AT ALL. When my sister died, all of her belongings were left in the hands of my mother and I…why would her Facebook be any different?

Please sign the petition in the link below get Facebook to change their policies on memorializing profiles:

Why does Facebook have any right to interfere with death and grief?

The strength of a sister 

On the day you were born, I knew right then,

That you would be beside me through thick and thin.

A little baby sister, to have as my own,

How lucky I was to have a best friend who also shared my home.

At five years old I was given a task,

To watch over and protect you, even when not asked.

When we were little, I thought it was me who was strong,

But as we grew older, I realized I had it wrong all along.

As your big sister, I always thought you needed me,

But after losing you I have been reminded that I was only strong because you taught me to be.

Since you’ve gone away,

I’ve feel like I’ve lost all purpose for my days. 

But I have decided that I must continue carrying out my task down here,

Because I am still your big sister even if you are not near.

I’m sure you are safe in His mansion in the sky,

I guess maybe our roles have shifted, maybe the one who needs protecting now is I.

So to you my sweet sister I am making a vow,

I promise to remain strong even on days that I don’t know how.

As your big sister, I should be watching over you,

But now that you’re with our Father, there’s not much protecting I can do.

So if you don’t mind, I have a favor to ask,

Will you please take over my task?

It seems kind of backwards that my baby sister should be strong now for me,

But then I remember that I was only strong because you taught me to be.

You were here

You were here.

I find myself repeating these words trying to convince myself even though you are nowhere near.

You were so much alive.

I have these memories and photographs but it seems as though they were all just a lie.

You were real.

The only proof I have is this gaping hole in my heart that will never heal.

It wasn’t a dream.

Each day I wake up in this nightmare and realize you are gone, regardless of how impossible it may seem.

You are gone.

Living this life without you feels so wrong.

You aren’t here.

I yearn to hear your voice but all I am left with are photographs and tears.

It is true.

Since you’ve left us, I see something each day that reminds me of you. 

You were here.

I find myself repeating these words trying to convince myself even though you are nowhere near.