My little angel

Lindsey Grace Cataldo. 5.5 ounces. 17inches. Red hair. Born June 5th 2005. Died June 5th 2005.

     I never really knew how much losing her would affect me back then. I just knew that she was gone and it was a terrible thing. The only way I knew it was terrible is because of all of the sympathetic looks I would get from teachers and family members. I was excused from homework and even had teachers personal phone numbers if I needed anyone to talk to. Of course, being only 9 years old I thought of it as a privilege. Now that I'm older and more informed I think about her a lot. I mostly think about what could have been. How beautiful she would have turned out to be. How smart she would have been. How her personality would have differed from mine. Would we be extremely close and share everything? Or would I hate her like my friends hate their younger siblings?
      I consider myself to have a pretty bad memory of my childhood. I heard that it's a defense mechanism your brain uses to block out traumatic events, which is ironic because I remember that day like is was yesterday. I vividly remember my mom calling me the night of June 4th. I was spending the night at my cousins house when she called. "Do you want to come to the hospital with me?". I said no. This is the biggest regret I have in life. I remember my great aunt coming over the next day. I assumed it would be to pick me up and take me to see my new baby sister. Instead she sat me down outside my cousins apartment and calmly explained that my sister was not alive. I remember holding my mom as she cried in the hospital bed. I remember my uncle, always strong and never showing emotion, crying his heart out. Chain smoking on the curb of the hospital parking lot. All of these memories are too much sometimes but that is because I keep them bottled up. I don't talk about her to anyone... Not my family. Not my friends. I keep her to myself, like a prized treasure only meant for myself.
     The same day she was born/died the butterflies I was raising hatched out of their chrysalises. I released all 5 Painted Lady butterflies at her funeral 3 days later. I see them all the time, they have been following me for the past 7 years. They are the only way I know shes with me all the time. No matter where I am or what I am doing she is right there. She is my guardian angel.