You Can’t Lose Me

This was the first song played at Crystal’s funeral.

Faith Hill’s “You Can’t Lose Me” was one of Crystal’s favorite songs, but hearing it begin that day gave it a meaning I never could have imagined while she was alive.

As the first notes played and photographs of Crystal filled the screen, we weren't looking at an investigation, a case file, or the circumstances surrounding her death.

We were looking at her life.

Crystal was ten years older than me, which meant she was never simply my older sister. She was part sister, part second mom, protector, confidante, and eventually my best friend. But Crystal belonged to so many people in so many different ways. She was Dane and Josh's sister. She was our mother's daughter. She was a mother, an aunt, a friend, and someone whose absence changed our family forever.

The photographs in this video capture pieces of the Crystal we knew—the smiles, the ordinary days, the celebrations, the people she loved, and moments that seemed completely ordinary when they happened but became priceless after she was gone.

That is an important part of why I wanted this video included in Watch Crystal's Story.

When someone's death becomes surrounded by questions, their identity can slowly become buried beneath reports, timelines, evidence, records, agencies, and arguments over what happened.

I refuse to let the way Crystal died become the most important thing people know about the way she lived.

Before February 9, 2023, there were decades of Crystal.

There was a little girl, a daughter, a sister and eventually a mother. There were birthdays and holidays, inside jokes and arguments, ordinary Tuesdays and unforgettable moments. There were people who depended on her, people who laughed with her, and people who loved her.

There was an entire life.

And at her funeral, before the other songs were played and before we said our final goodbye, this was the song that began the telling of that life.

Today, its title carries an entirely different weight for me.

Because I did lose Crystal in every physical way that matters. I can't call her. I can't hear her voice on the other end of the phone. I can't make another memory with her.

But I haven't lost what she gave me.

I haven't lost the years we had together, the things she taught me, the memories captured in these photographs, or the part of her that helped shape who I am.

And as long as I have a voice, I won't let the world lose Crystal either.

This is my sister.

This is part of her life.

And this was the first song we played when we gathered to tell her goodbye.

Love made me her sister. Loss made me her voice.