Friday, March 31, 2006

Good news

Many or you are aware that Casey and Jill Carroll were close friends. During Jill's three months in captivity, quite a few people told me they were optimistic because they knew wherever Jill was, Casey was watching out for her. I ad the same thought many times.

The Collegian ran an entire edition today about Jill. This column had a nice Casey mention in it as well.

Thursday, March 30, 2006

My Other Big Sister

By Jessica Walker

Every couple of weeks, or sometimes months, I wander onto this site and read all the amazing stories Casey created for us. Reading new adventures and rereading old happenings always leaves me misty. Consistently I think…
“Ok, I’m going to write something.” “Today’s the day.”Well today is that day.

Growing up Casey was my other big sister. Casey and Laura (my biological sister) are nine years older than me. As you can imagine the 6-7-8 year old me just loved to follow my High School aged sisters around everywhere I could manage to go. Things just always seemed more fun with two big sisters.

Some phenomenal amount of; band practices, football games, swim meets, and field hockey brawls later I watched my sisters graduate top of their class. There was a party with balloons to celebrate, and a photograph on my wall to remember the whole thing.

Many years later they both moved away, and I began my own High School days. In the entrance hall there is a plaque with the names of all the Valedictorians and Salutatorians. Everyday I would stop and think “1993, those are my big sisters.” It filled me with an astounding sense of pride. I held onto that thought hard, and let my admiration of them carry me through.

Even though I had not heard from Casey in years, news of her diagnosis traveled to me almost immediately. The sorrow I felt was intense. “My sister has cancer.” The thought echoed in my mind with the sinisterness and disbelief of a bad horror movie.

Later that month I was shopping with my mother. I purchased a few cute items and assembled a “thinking of you” package for Casey. I wasn’t sure if she would really remember me or not, but I sent it because she meant so much to me. A few months later I received an unexpected card. It was small and simple. In the place of a commercially generated thank you, there was a beautiful note from Casey. Her words were full of hope and love and gratefulness, but that’s just the sort of person she was.

In the years to follow I would always want to send her another package, or a letter, or even just a card. Sadly, with my life just getting in to gear, it just seemed like I could never get around to it.

It was a sunny day at my apartment in California when my sister (and then my mom, and even my brother) called to tell me about Casey’s passing. I was so upset. At that moment I couldn’t understand why, for the last four years, buying a 99cent card and mailing it out had been so hard. I pulled Casey’s card out of my memory box and quietly remembered.

After a while I decided to stop being so sad and do something. I educated myself. I donated. I made signs about awareness. I told Casey’s story to everyone who wanted to listen. People I’d known for years began coming up to me and telling their stories. They thank me and say I’ve helped them be less helpless about their losses. I tell them I didn’t do anything, it’s just me giving back all the love and inspiration Casey gave to me when I was growing up.

It’s become my own little thinking of you card to my other big sister.

Casey Card

Friday, March 03, 2006

Purple Heart

Marcus Amaker wrote a Casey Inspired poem.

the last time i saw you
you were a shadow of yourself -
hiding the battle scars
after declaring war
on the ghosts
that were moving through your body.

we all would have
gone on the frontlines for you
but you had to do it alone.
so you held on to your heartbeat
like a weapon -
smiling through the pain
even after your enemy claimed its name:

cancer.

a year and a half later,
your ex-boyfriend tells me
it's a shame that someone
with so much life
couldn't win the fight.
so we drink and think of you
and continue to train for the battle
like it's the only thing to fight for.

and now i sharpen my sword
for your memory
and cut through the silence you left here
after all of the smoke cleared.

You can hear him narrate it at www.marcusamaker.com