Today, Anna shares the story of her sister, Antoinette. We hope it stays with you—because they never leave us.

Always Looking for the Bright Side: Antoinette's Story

My sister Antoinette loved to dance, she loved to laugh, and she had a way of making everyone around her feel welcomed. That was just who she was—generous and warm.

She was a woman of big passions and no apologies for any of them. She loved music in every form—country, reggaeton, 80s metal—sometimes all in the same afternoon. She lived for the beach, for Halloween, for long car rides with the windows down, for the rumble of a Harley-Davidson beneath her. She watched NASCAR with the same intensity she brought to everything else she loved. Antoinette was a daughter, sister, aunt, wife, cousin, and friend—and she showed up fully in every single one of those roles.

The last time I heard her voice, she was on an adventure. Antoinette had gone to visit the Newport mansions—The Breakers specifically. She texted me to say that some of the mansions were still closed for the season, but instead of being disappointed, she was already making plans. We were going to go together in the summer, she said. We'd do it right. She spent the day exploring The Breakers, sending me pictures and describing how beautiful it all was. When she got back to her hotel that evening, she texted to let me know she had made it back safely. I texted her back and called her a "Newport driving pro." We laughed. That was the last exchange we had.

That moment is so perfectly Antoinette to me—always curious, always positive, always looking for the bright side and bringing you along with her. Even when things didn't go as planned, she found the good in it. That was her gift.

On March 29, 2011, my sister's life was taken from us. There is no way to prepare for that kind of loss, and no roadmap for what comes after. Grief like that doesn't just break your heart—it changes the shape of your whole life. Our family has not been the same since, and there are days when that truth still takes my breath away.

Finding Survivors of Homicide changed something for me. For the first time, I was surrounded by people who understood—truly understood—what it means to carry this kind of loss. Through this organization, I found a way to turn my grief into something that could reach others. I began speaking at schools, prisons, and educational forums, saying Antoinette's name in rooms full of people who needed to hear her story. Every time I do, I feel her with me.

Telling her story has been one of the most healing things I have ever done. It keeps her light alive, and it reminds me that her life—her beautiful, full, irreplaceable life—still has meaning in this world. Because of the support that Survivors of Homicide receives, families like mine don't have to walk this road alone. And that makes all the difference.