I didn't think that I was going to post anything about this today, but I can't seem to stop myself. For some odd reason it doesn't matter how many years go by, you never forget the worst day of your life. I'm lucky though, because mine had a good end result, but still every March 13th I feel a little sick to my stomach, a little bit of a sinking feeling when I think about how close we came to losing Matty. It's so bizarre how well I remember almost every detail of that day. It was Friday the 13th, and we had a rally at school, I remember being nervous that day because elections were the next Monday. I was running for Student Council. After school, Tashi and I were driving home when she got a page (remember pagers?) from my dad saying come home now. We thought we were in trouble but didn't know why. When we got home my dad told us to sit on the couch, and we had to wait for Tarah and Meghan to get off the bus and get home before he would tell us what was going on. I didn't understand that at the time, but now I realize the he didn't want two 13 year olds walking in on a scene of hysteria. My mom and Matt weren't home, Matt had had pneumonia for a few weeks, so we knew something might be wrong, but we just thought maybe it had gotten worse. Those 10 minutes waiting for the girls to get home were some of the longest of my life. Then my dad told us and it was like time stopped. I never understood the phrase "the room was spinning" until that moment. He told us that my mom had taken Matt to the doctor that day and that they thought he had cancer, but they weren't sure. Leukemia. That was it, and then he had to leave. We spent the rest of the night in some kind of trance like state, being fed pizza and smoothies by one of our neighbors that we barely knew, until my dad called to confirm what we already knew. That's when the real hysterics started, and then I talked to Rachel Crandall on the phone, and she did something that I will never forget. She sat on the phone and cried with me for about a half an hour. And I don't mean one small tear. She balled like a baby right along with me. There was nothing that anyone else could have done that would have done more for me. I finally understood what it meant to mourn with those that mourn. I will always be grateful to her for being there for me and understanding in a way that I don't think anyone else could. So if you read this Rachel I just want to thank you for that beautiful act of kindness, I don't even know if you remember, but I want you to know that I do. And I'm thankful to the Lord, for letting us keep Matty longer, and for giving us that trial, it made our entire family better, and stronger. These experiences don't leave us. They are woven into the fabric of our lives, they change who we are, make us something different, something more. The Lord loves us, and for that reason, he sends us through the refiners fire. I love you, Matty. Happy Anniversary.