My cousin passed away yesterday. She would’ve turned 33 this month, and typing about her in the past tense feels utterly surreal.

Paula was born when I was ten years old. I must have been hoping she’d be born on my early December birthday, but she chose to make her arrival in November. She was the first child born to my Uncle Tim and Aunt Jan, both of whom I loved very much, and I was profoundly excited. Though I had loved on dollies my whole life, I never slept with a stuffed animal until someone gave me a small teddy bear for my 10th birthday. I named her Paula. That Paula resides in my closet. My cousin Paula now rests, her spirit is at home with her Lord and Creator.

Paula was vivacious and thoughtful in turns. She had a sense of humor that cracked me up. It was whip smart and hilarious and could touch on any cultural reference. I didn’t always understand the actual punchline, but if Paula was throwing down the joke it was for sure snarky and funny. 

Paula had such an openness to her that children loved her. My daughter Livia especially loved being around Paula because she was so much FUN. I want to text Paula right now, demand that she still lives, that a cruel joke was played yesterday, and then laugh about the dumb moments we shared together. Paula witnessed our dog Shiloh snarfing down a snack from the coffee table only to literally spit it out when my husband Jeremy (his Alpha) came down the stairs. A dog spitting out a goodie? I’ve never seen it happen before and never will again, but it happened when Paula was staying with us for a holiday and it made her and me laugh over and over again. 

Paula introduced me to new music. She was open with me about her struggles and her love for her Savior and desire for a closer walk with Him. Once she knew that chili and cinnamon rolls were a THING here in the Midwest she never got over it, insisting that it was a super nasty combination. She was wrong, but that’s okay. ;) 

Paula carried the intelligence of her dad and the compassion of her mom throughout her 32 years. She loved her family. She loved her pets. She loved her friends and particularly cherished her years playing ultimate frisbee. She loved her church, and she especially loved children. 

Paula, I have loved you since the moment I knew you were a wee person in your mother’s womb and I shall love you into eternity. How grateful I am that I will see you in heaven, in perfect wholeness and at perfect peace. But for now, I miss you like nothing else. You are irreplaceable and one-of-a-kind. No one can take your place in my heart.