Missing my Lee Lee

I read Amy's blog today and I cried. A lot. Amy shared a perfect letter she wrote to Leah, that she gave at her funeral. It is tender, sweet, inspiring and fills my heart with love, hope and strengthens my testimony.
I love my girls. I miss Leah.

Dearest Leah,

We all miss you, but I have a pretty good feeling you already know that.

I’m gonna try and read this without too much crying, because I know you’d rather have us all laughing.

So, how is Heaven? How does it feel to be free from your tired body? After I heard you left us, I prayed and prayed that God would be gentle with you. Are you doing okay? When you saw Grami for the first time, did she give you a love pat on your butt, or a kiss on the lips? Probably both. And if there's any way for her to be spoiling you in Heaven right now, I know she is.

I already miss the way you always said “Hey Ame,” whenever you saw me or answered the phone. You know how to give the best hugs, and how to make anyone laugh. Somehow, your sarcasm has never been hurtful, just funny. And we've always loved being around you.

It’s hard to believe it was just last week, when you were cracking jokes around the dinner table on Thanksgiving. They were really dumb jokes too, but we were laughing at how funny YOU thought they were.

I remember when I was just starting middle school. I was not happy to be growing up. You tried to cheer me up by saying that Schlauder girls have a special power, and together, we came up with a Schlauder power cheer. We stood in a circle, put our hands in the middle, chanted “Schlauder Power,” then raised them up with a sassy, “Schlauder girls got attitude.” (There may have been a handshake or a dance afterwards. I’m not really sure.) But me and Ally felt really cool to have a cheer with our older sisters.

I remember sitting in the front seat of your teal green Camaro, learning all the words to Mariah Carey’s song. “Heartbreaker” with you. I still have it memorized. And I think of you every time I hear it. (Or anything Destiny's Child.)

I remember one time sitting in your chair at your salon. You brought a pack of index cards and markers. We thought of 100 (or more) reasons why you loved your husband, and we took turns decorating the cards for his Valentine’s Day present. Your heart's always been so big, and you've always had so much love to share.

I remember the themed birthday parties you planned for your kids, and the way you wanted your house to always be decorated just right. I know you love your kids more than any of us can even comprehend. And I promise you, Leah, that we will all take such good care of them, and let them know how much you love them.

Leah, you are far more beautiful than you have ever realized. You have touched so many lives, just by the simple ways you make others feel good about themselves. You've always loved doing hair because you wanted other people to feel beautiful. I remember the joy you felt when you made women with cancer feel beautiful again. So many people love you, Leah. I hope you will someday see the beauty we all see in you, and the beauty our Heavenly Father sees in you.

I know you want to be better. We all want to be better. I'm just so grateful that that progression, of being a little bit better every day, doesn’t end in this life. I’m so grateful that you can become the Leah you’ve always wanted to be. And I can become the Amy I've always wanted to be. I find comfort believing that now, that progression will be less painful for you.

I don't understand exactly how Christ's Atonement makes it possible for Him to be the perfect judge, but I know it does. I know He died for me and for you. He knows what we struggle with, what hurts us most, and how to best to heal us. Maybe this life got just a little too hard for your soft heart. And Heavenly Father wanted to wrap His arms around you and welcome you home.

Lee Lee, I miss you dearly, but I know I will see you again. I hope that by the way I live my life, that I can show you how very much I love you and look forward to laughing with you again.
Love always and forever,
Amy