Andrea Nicole

 I selected your name with great care for the way it would sound when spoken aloud, pleasing to the ear and I think in that way you grew up in that name, bringing happiness to others, sometimes by merely being you.

I think maybe you were the reason I remember our home as peaceable, at least as far as you girls getting along. Don't get me wrong, there were squabbles (What? A houseful of females fussing?). But as these things usually go, the sibling rivalry just was not an issue as nearly as I can remember.

Again I think it had to do with your relatively laid-back personality (don't know where you got it from). Kim was the more assertive, and you were like, "Its cool." You were Zen.

Which was odd because you were not happy as a baby. Not any health problems that I recall. Maybe because until you were 1 or a little older, your mom and I argued a lot. In front of you guys, I'm ashamed to say.

Maybe after that point in your life she had resigned herself to the fact that music was going to be a important part of my life and things calmed down a bit. Ask your mother. She probably remembers it better than I do.

Such a sweet nature and I recall that even after Kris was born and you might have been jealous, you weren't. In fact one of my favorite stories concerns you two. She couldn't have been much more than two so you were probably around six or seven  and I heard your voice one day from the next room, yall's bedroom:

"Do-o-nt, Krissy do-o-nt." And again. And again. I won't be mean and call it a whine but that's what it was. It was plain to anyone listening you were being tormented in some awful way by your little sister.

Well, enough of that became enough fairly quickly, so I rose from whatever I was doing, strode into the room, swatted Kris on the behind and said, "Quit aggravatin' your sister."

And that settled it. Or so I thought. It wasn't long before I heard you sobbing. Your mama came in  and related the following conversation:

Mom: What's wrong with you, Niki?
Nik (in the midst of packing): I'm running away from home.
Mom: What? Why?
Niki (renewed sobbing): Daddy was mean to Krissy.

Never did find out what Kris was doing to you. Maybe she remembers.

I think Pepaw Tolar pulled all yall's front baby teeth. The two in front, that leave a cute gap in a little girl's smile until the adult ones come in. As nearly as I can recall, you were terrified of having them pulled even though they seemed about to fall out by themselves. He called you over to himself saying, "Let Papaw see, baby." And you dutifully opened your mouth and Pepaw grasped the tooth between his thumb and forefinger and wiggled it experimentally while talking to you about this, that or the other thing. Next thing you know, he showed it to you having pulled it out while he was talking. Gotta say, I was jealous, He always tied a string around mine which wasn't nearly so relaxing. Got his technique down over the years, I suppose.

There's a picture somewhere, your mom may have it, that I took of you when you were maybe five(?) or maybe a little younger. You were just getting over chicken pox so you had stayed home from church that Sunday. You guys and your mom always went to LBC every Sunday with your Memaw and Pepaw.  I was sitting in my recliner, watching the pre-game show I think and I can't remember how the conversation started but that it was about nothing in particular, just a girl hanging out with her daddy. I remember your face, with one or two remaining scars from the chicken pox but your mouth mostly and how the expression of your face was just like that of your mama's when she and I first met and you talked, like she had done, about mostly nothing and your hair was wispy and blonde and you had on this little maroon turtleneck that was one of your favorites and somehow the camera was nearby and I snapped a shot of you as you talked, a polaroid which is probably all faded by now which is a shame because I would give anything to look at it and see if it matches the memory I have of you that day just talking and hanging out.

The last time I remember talking and hanging out with you was in your Memaw Tolar's carport. You were a grown woman then with your own family and the feeling of kinship that we feel with those nearest and most dear to us is the thing I recall of that time. That and a sense of peace between us which I hope was as real to you as it was to me.

You know, some might look at your life and say, "What a shame. She never had a chance to be all she might have been."

They are wrong. You were exactly what the Lord your God made you to be. You were a sweet and loving sister and daughter, a faithful, supportive wife and a kind and gentle mother to your curly-haired little girl. You carried your smile wherever you went, even on days when you might not have felt like smiling, and brightened people's hearts with it.

There is a verse of Scripture I think of, which comforts me greatly: "The righteous perish...the faithful are taken away, and no one understands that the righteous are taken away to be spared from evil."

I hope to see you one day, blue-eyed little girl, resting in the arms of Jesus.

I love you, Andrea Nicole.