In all honesty I have it pretty easy. Sometimes you have to remind yourself of that. There are people have it worse than you. So if you are ever feeling terrible, remember that you are not the only one suffering. If you are having a bad year, remember that there is always an end to that year. I don't often have to remind myself of this, but every so often I do. However, a year ago I needed that reminder everyday.
    My brother Owen was paralyzed and our good friend killed in a car accident a year ago. At the time it seemed like my world had been blown into a million bits and I wondered if I would ever be able to piece it back together. Marylyn was my friend who died. She and I had been best friends since birth. She shared the same birthday as Owen and I, June 22nd. Each year all of us had our birthdays together. Owen never minded it being two girls and him. He had his other friends, like Marylyn and I did, but we all were still each other's closest friends. Just a week before the car accident we celebrated our 15th birthdays together at our favorite restaurant Péngy?u. Péngy?u is a Chinese restaurant; its name means friend. When we were there we would always order our favorite, Xiao Long Bao, and then we would all pick something new to try. Marylyn and I usually liked what we tried, Owen did not. One time we had ordered Y? Tu? which we learned is Chinese for duck leg. Owen had to excuse himself from the table when we tried that. That last time we were there I remember all of us discussing our new dish, H?izhé.

             "I wonder what we ordered this time?" I had mused to Marylyn.
"Beats me I don't understand or read Chinese and I don't plan to," she replied.
            "All that I care about is that it doesn't make me throw up. At least the picture looked like it would taste good?"
            "You mean you would eat a picture?," said Marylyn, "Owen I have known you for a long time and even I did not know you could be that weird."
           
    Owen rolled his eyes. He was used to Marylyn’s jokes and teasing so all he said was, “Yes Marylyn, if I were to eat a picture that would be weird and I would probably give myself paper cuts on my tongue.” At this he cringed. Paper cuts on your tongue would not be pleasant.

            Marylyn was always funny and that is one of the things I miss about her. She always made me laugh. She most certainly made me laugh while trying the H?izhé.
  
            "Here is you order of H?izhé," the waiter had said. We divided it among three plates and all tried it at the same time. Owen finished his bite first and he smiled, a promising sight. As I chewed it felt cold in my mouth, but it was not necessarily a bad thing. I could also taste green onion, which I really like in chinese food. After swallowing and went to take another bite and saw that Marylyn’s plate was half empty. She must have enjoyed it. Then Owen started to evaluate the dish.
            "It is crispy," said Owen, “I like the addition of the green onions.”
"Yeah. I agree. It tastes really good," I said. "Marylyn what do you think?"
            "I agree. I think it is a win. I don't know if we have ever had something we all like before. I wonder what it is?" Marylyn wondered.

             She took another bite and as she did read the description under the picture and I swear she literally turned green. Marylyn can handle a lot of different foods, but one thing she can not stand is anything that was once swimming around in the big ocean blue.

             "It's jellyfish!," she exclaimed. "No. Oh no. I swear I just felt it sting me!"
"It is your chopstick," I said laughing, "It cannot sting you it's dead."
             "Come on! If I can stomach this, you can too, Marylyn," Owen said.

            She looked at us both with loathing then proceeded to tell us that if the next time we ordered it turned out to be some sort of fish in any shape or form, it would end up all over us. Then we all laughed, Owen and I looked at each other because we knew that Marylyn was dead serious. I just hoped we would not make that mistake again.
That was the last great time with my two closest friends.
            We had grown up together. We always knew there were always two shoulder to lean on when things got rough, always two other people who would stand by you, two other people who would always tell you the truth. We were inseparable until the day of the car accident when our group of three was smashed to pieces.
     Now at this point I had to remind myself that it could have been two of us that were gone. I had been in the car as well when the car crashed, and I had only received a broken arm. However seeing my friends limp body broke all of me. I knew I would never share another birthday with her, have another conversation with her, or laugh together again. It broke my heart. Later when it was declared that my brother was paralyzed and would never walk again, I just fell into my mom's supporting arms and sobbed even as I felt her tears fall on my shoulder like little rain drops. My world was being covered in dark, cold, gray clouds and I did not know if the light could shine through.

    At Marylyn's memorial service when it was time for me to speak, all I could do was stand up by the podium and choke out the words, "I miss her," and then I started to cry. I slowly walked back to where my family was and sat down by my brother's wheelchair leaned against him and cried. I knew when I had spoken I had spoken for both of us.
    For a week after the memorial service, I did not leave my house. I would alternate between crying because of my paralyzed brother and my dead friend. My other friends came over and would sit and try to comfort me, but all I could do was nod numbly. I spent a lot of time with Owen; he stayed more silent. He was devastated at his paralysis he knew he could never run again or even walk down the hallways at school. One day my youth group leader Caroline came over and sat with me and just hugged me. As I cried to her that my best friend had left a gaping hole in my life, she had me come outside along with Owen and gave us the idea that helped us to start to heal.
    My dad helped us dig a hole about a foot and a half deep. Our goal was to fill it up with rocks. Caroline had said for anything that made us happy or reminded us in a good way of Marylyn we could put a rock that had that thing written on it in the hole.
The first rock I put into the hole was a small rock, about the size of my palm, where I wrote the word H?izhé to stand represent the last time we ate at our favorite restaurant. Each time I crushed by an onslaught of emotions about Maylyn’s death I would make a new rock. Owen would have me put rocks in the hole for him. He could not reach the hole in his wheelchair but he felt the need to keep adding rocks just as I did. Everytime I put a new rock in the hole they would hit of each other. Sometimes I ran away from the hole because it was a large reminder of Marylyn other times I stood there, thinking, as I thought about all the good memories we had wrote on rock and dropped into the hole. One time standing there I noticed that those rocks never made a seal, there were always cracks inbetween them. I then began to realize why we would not just and a handful of dirt into the hole. The point of filling up the hole with rocks was not to bury the memory of Marylyn but to remind us of her, to help us heal. We filled it up with rocks not dirt because even after we were done filling the hole we would still miss Marylyn and we would still feel her absence from our lives. By filling the hole in with rocks we would still see the cracks that we could never fill. We could see that we had not forgotten her but we would be able to remember her but not fall into the black hole of sadness she left.
After about eight months me and Owen had filled the hole to the brim. When I told Caroline and said that I still not feel happy she gave me a new task. She said for every new happy memory we make, big or small, to plant a flower.
Now each time I plant one of those flower I don’t think of Marylyn, I think of the new happy memory I have made. One flower was for the time my family rescued a little white Cotonese puppy who is now Owen’s new lap partner. Over time our yard would became full of flowers, reminding us that even though something terrible happened and there will be a permanent mark on us because of it we can start to feel better and heal. I had felt like my world was in a million pieces but I've started to piece them back together. There will still be cracks but that is okay.
    Now my yard is full of flowers and it is beautiful. Owen is more adjusted to his new way of living and I've healed. In that car crash I could have lost both my friend and my brother. I could have been paralyzed. There are people who have suffered worse than I have. That does not mean I can't be sad, but it means I can know that those people have pulled through and I can take encouragement from them.