|Melanie Sue Anderson Adams|
June 7, 1981-July 20, 2013
What you saw when you looked at Melanie was a woman with several tattoos, piercings and extremely curly and sometimes frizzy, out of control hair. She was unconventional, liked to dress to please herself, whether that be a comfortable pair of sweats, a costume for a Harry Potter party or some crazy goth get-up. She even had a favorite cape she would put on for special occasions. She didn't care what people thought.
What you didn't see when you looked at her, unless you took the time to get to know her: She would give her last dollar, even if it meant she went without. She'd give you the clothes off her back. She didn't expect anything in return. She loved unconditionally, in every sense of what that word means. She was there for whoever needed her, and did whatever was necessary to get to the place she felt most needed. She had a big, beautiful, generous heart. The only person she could have showed more love to was herself.
She loved her animals like they were her children, even more so when she learned she would never have any kids of her own. She sobbed when she lost one of her beloved pets and even asked to bury her oldest companion in my backyard because while her housing status was often up in the air, she knew we were planning to stay put and she wanted her Cocoa Baby to be where she could visit.
She loved my children like they were her children, and just a few days ago she was the only one who thought to call my 3 year old to personally wish her a Happy Birthday. I had to be extra careful about telling her anything my kids liked or were interested in, because she would take money she didn't have to spare and spend it on something she knew they would enjoy. She did the same for me. I would scold her for it, but it never did any good because she'd just do it again anyway. It was her way of telling us she loved us.
She forgave, even when someone did what most would consider unforgivable, and she didn't hold a grudge either. I've never known anyone who did that as freely as her. Never. And I'm sure I never will again.
I don't know how I'm going to do without her. Thirty-two years was not enough. Not nearly enough. But I'm so glad I got to have her as my sister.
I love you so very much, my Melanie Sue-sue.