Hi, everyone. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Munchie – Sarah’s older sister. I want to start off by thanking everyone for coming to celebrate Sarah’s life, and to offer our heartfelt appreciation to each and every one of you who has reached out to us over the past few days. It has been so overwhelming and so incredibly comforting. So thank you.

So. I’m usually not without words but this experience has left me speechless, and numb, and heartbroken, and angry & so, so, incredibly sad.

What do I say about my sister? Do I talk about the precocious little girl she was? The one who donned a Superman cape and threatened to jump out the second story bathroom window before cutting her own hair? The one who jumped off the banister onto my back, crashing both of us onto the glass coffee table and laughed the whole way down? The one who got her hair caught in an electric screwdriver while pretending it was a telephone and barely shed a tear as we ripped half of her hair out trying to get it free? The one who always managed to find the golden egg on Easter AND always won the pipping contest? Or the one who did a back flip off the diving board at Tatnall pool before we even knew she could dive?

Sarah, or Sarah-Keturah, or Keturah. However you knew her, she was my sister. And even though she was 6 ½ years younger than me I was always a little jealous of her. The prime reason being that she was tall, and naturally beautiful, and her laugh made everyone around her laugh without even knowing what was so funny. Even when she was younger she always had a way about her of putting everyone at ease, and making everyone smile. I always had a way of making people think I was pissed off, because that’s just my face. I was also more than a little jealous that she had a “normal” name aside from Keturah. I just had Laetitia, and I didn’t think that was fair. Also, her voice. Her voice was amazing. When I close my eyes and think of her, that’s what I hear. And her laugh. That god damn laugh where it was almost like she couldn’t control her body, she would almost slump over when she was laughing really hard at something and before you knew it you were crying tears of laughter with her. That’s what I’ll always hear. And that’s what I’ll always miss.

Sarah loved without boundaries. She was fiercely loyal to her friends and family. And I mean FIERCELY loyal – I would have been terrified if I ever crossed her or any of her friends. (Katie Trump, I’m talking to you). She loved animals more than most humans (she learned that by watching me) and she was never without a smile on her face. I remember thinking one time that it was like she gave people hope just by smiling at them. She could smile at a scowling stranger and their face would light up – they couldn’t help it. That’s just the kind of person she was. My sister had one of the biggest hearts I’ve ever known.

I’m not going to stand up here and ignore what we all know about Sarah. She struggled with her demons for years. We all watched, we all tried to help, we all prayed and we all hoped and we all wished like hell she would get through it and come out on the other side. And she didn’t. That doesn’t mean she wasn’t one of the strongest people I know, probably the strongest person I’ll ever know actually. That doesn’t mean she didn’t try, that doesn’t mean she didn’t hate seeing the hurt she inflicted on everyone she cared about, that doesn’t mean she didn’t wish like hell she could get through it either. 

That doesn’t mean that’s what we need to remember about her. But we do need to remember. We need to share her story, and share her battle, and hopefully someone, somewhere will gain some strength from our loss. Someone, somewhere will wear Sarah’s story as a medal of valor. Someone, somewhere will be able to stand up where she fell and hang on to this life a little longer than she did.

And we will all remember her, and what she meant to us. We all need to remember how much she loved each and every one of us – the decision she made doesn’t diminish that. I’d like to think she loved each one of us a little too much and that’s why she took her own life – because she didn’t want to be our burden anymore.

I just wish she’d known that she wasn’t that, she was never that, and she won’t be that now. She will be my sister, and my mom & Jake’s daughter, and Claire & Sassie’s granddaughter, and a niece, and a cousin, and a friend, and a co-worker. She will be all of those things, but she will never, ever be our burden.

One thing I know for sure is that Sarah wouldn’t want any of us to be sitting around feeling sorry for ourselves that she isn’t here to make us laugh anymore. So mourn her, grieve your loss, hug your friends, cry, scream, punch walls, whatever makes you feel better. And then laugh. For the rest of your life, when you laugh, remember hers. And laugh some more. And don’t ever, ever, forget her. Or her heart.

To everyone who loved my sister – know that she loved you just as much.

Thank you.