I think I was about two years old when my little sister was brought home from the hospital. She cried, she peed, she spit up, she was beautiful. As we got older, we became inseperable. I knew all her dirty little secrets and she cried on my shoulder. There was a connection between our souls. We raised one another to be beautiful, independent women. Only my sister never made it to womanhood. She was a very kind hearted and trusting person who never met a stranger. I remember her being 8 years old and running up to people and saying "Hi, my name is Stef, wanna play with me?" Everyone had a kind heart in her eyes. She was going through the typical rebelious runaway stage of her teenage years when she met the animal that took her life. She was romantically involved with a local loser from Washington State (Spokane area). He was romantically involved with two other females, one of which was only 14 -15 at the time he was 20. Apparently the law didn't see that as a crime. He and the two other females he was seeing along with my sister took a ride up Mount Spokane to "Look at the stars." Once they had reached their destination. My sister and Kenneth took a walk up the side of a hill where he proceeded to slit her throat and stab her twelve times. Her lifeless body lay there in that shallow grave for two days less than a month. She was so beautiful, so young, so innocent, so trusting, and loving. After he was finished, he cleaned his hands off and took his two other "girlfriends" for a fancy dinner at the local Taco Bell. There was a truely precious person stolen on that mountian. Today, seven years after the loss of such a huge part of my life, I sit with my husband and two beautiful children and wonder what her life would be like today. Would our children have grown up together? What would their names have been? Would her husband be as hard headed as mine? Would she still let me beat her up if she didn't take the blame for breaking the dish in the kitchen Mom told me not to mess with? I lost part of my life that night. I lost my best friend. When I had no one to turn to, I had her. When no one would hold my hand because I did something wrong, I had her. When I hated my Mother for not letting me go to the school dance, I had her. When I got married, I had her. I see her in my children's eyes. Her spirit lives on within my babies. I see her in my dreams, I see her in my memories. I can almost here her laughing as she tried to trash my car on my wedding day. She did everything to make people feel welcomed and accepted. When she needed help, I was there. When the girls on the bus bullied her for not being as snotty as they were, I was there. There will never be a person quite like my sister to grace the face of this earth. She gave everyday life a beautiful glow. My life and every life my sister touch is forever sorrowful for the loss of her innocence. She was cut down at the beginning of her prime. I loved her. I trusted her. I needed her. I depended on her. I felt/feel lost without her. I have learned to physically live without her, but my soul waits patiently to be reunited with her in the glorious presence of our Lord Jesus Christ. Everyone has a guardian angel that will be there when it is their time to be judged. She will be standing beside me, waiting impatiently, for him to let me pass through those gates so she can show me the wonders of Heaven. She no longer hurts, or crys, or is mistreated, or is tossed to the side for something/someone better. She is loved and missed unconditionally. "Stef, I love you. I miss you. I know you are happy and that you are watching over all of us. I will be with you soon enough."

I love you dearly Stefanie Marie Brock and am truely honored to have had the chance for such a tender and giving soul to touch my life as you did. -Jennifer

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