To my sister, Nozzle-nose, Snake-breath, or as other people know you - Diana,

May the shine of the sun rain over you
And the grace from the moon not be alter'd,
But be prais-ed with my love through your hands,
And your heart, your ears, and your truest eye.
I have a fear and you take me in wing,
You have a smile and I feed you the laugh.
Pick'd and press'd flowers read within a book,
We travel through the other's words without
Your need for speech-living completely, with focus,
With strength-the rhythm of sound, life, and of love.
We are but two souls with common thread and
One mind holds balance in each common breath.
We, sisters, like dimples in the night sky.
(The stars in the dark blue which glow so bright.)


Diana would have introduced me as: "Abi, my little taller sister." There is so much to say about my sister, perhaps the easiest way of understanding is by looking at pictures. But we all know Di would have instead suggested that talking and telling people everything you feel is just as powerful. I'm not going to stand here and tell you EVERYTHING-I can't-but allow me a few of the memories I have of my big sister.

I addressed her a moment ago as Nozzle-nose and Snake-breath; these are just a couple of a plethora of nicknames we would throw back and forth at each other on random occasions.

And then there was the tissue trick. When I've got a runny nose, Diana, I will think of you. You taught me well: just stuff a tissue up your nose and let it attractively hang there as you go about your business. Nevermind what it looks like, it works.

And who could forget John's longing to swing on your gigantic silver hoop earings.

And the charm you always had on all my friends at my annual childhood pool parties-a bunch of 11-year olds wrapped in towels, standing around her, listening to her talk about whatever it was that kept them intrigued.

I will miss driving with you and hearing Madonna on the radio, running into an empty house once we pull in our driveway, blasting Madonna's "Cherish," and dancing and sliding around in our socks, singing at the top of our lungs.

One time Diana and I put two mugs of hot chocolate in the microwave...exciting, huh? As the mugs started to revolve, Di and I looked at each other for a moment and put a hand on each of our hips-like handles-and began, too, to move at a constant speed in a circle in the middle of the kitchen, looking like idiots, but more importantly, having fun.

I'll never forget her unbelievably soft hands...and her long french manicured fingernails I loved to play with.

I'll never forget spending a weekend with her up in a cabin on Mt. Moosilauke, early on in her hiking career.

Or being yelled at to hurry up, rushing out the door and piling into the car every year for the Christmas Eve service-with coat in one hand and eye-liner, lipstick, and mirror in the other, still finishing the make-up.

And something that I will miss doing this year-Scotch-taping a sign saying "Reserved for Ab and Di" to the couch that would have the least amount of blinding sunlight the following Christmas morning.

I'll never forget her imitating the Muppets, especially Miss Piggy and Gonzo on John Denver's Christmas album when there is a mid-song quarrel over whether it is "Piggy Pudding" or "Figgy Pudding."

On the way back from John and Becca's the Monday night after the news, a familiar old song came on the radio that made everyone in the car sing along-the lyrics: "You're the meaning in my life, you're the inspiration." Inspiration. I couldn't sing anymore. Diana was that. I remember sitting in the audience watching her in Milton's production of the Fantasticks, acting and singing while clipping a fake hedge from a ladder. I must have been seven or eight. And I remember thinking: "I wanna do that." Sure enough, I followed through and now am majoring in theater. That's one thing Diana and I shared, we never did it at the same time, but to say the least, she inspired me.

Diana's love and dedication to the environment was admirable, inspirational, and at times, amazing-like when you would put a used tea-bag in the trash and she would fish it back out, saying it was perfect for compost. Like we knew... This was not only an above sea level thing, but below, also. On out recent trip to the Virgin Islands, we had just dropped anchor in a little cove for the night when Diana noticed another sailboat was about to anchor closer to shore directly over a reef of coral. After several failed attempts of shouting at the other boat, informing them of what they were doing, we decided it was no use and retired to our dinner below deck. We, that is, excluding Diana: she leaped off our boat into the dinghy, rowed like a banshee over to the other boat and quite furiously bit their heads off, making sure every other boat in the cove (and most likely the cove next door) heard what she had to say-that dropping anchor over such a reef, kills the coral. Cowering on our deck and quietly respecting her actions, the rest of us sat there thinking, "...Only Diana."

I picture Diana and she has a smile on her face. She fit so much into her 29 years-her multi-faced artistic talents, her passion for the outdoors, and her love of people-taking nothing for granted. She made us realize it is possible to do it all and still be happy throughout.

I look at a picture of you now and know what you said at that moment, how you said it and what your laugh sounded like. You may have physically left us, but your spirit and your impression lies within us.

You harmonized some lyrics in a song one time-"Hammer and a Nail" by the Indigo Girls-you sang a line that reminds me of you, what you stood for, and what you did with the life that was given to you. And so it goes: "Got to tend the earth if you want to make a rose."

I love you so very much and I am so very proud of all of you and all of your 29 years. I will miss hearing your voice and being able to touch you, but I can feel your alive-ness every moment of my days. Thank you for always being there for me. Thank you for teaching me. I was so lucky to have you as a big sister for as long as I did. You will always be in my heart. And I know I will see you in my dreams.