When my niece was murdered, my sister asked me to write something so the preacher
would have something from me to say at the funeral. I wrote it with tears in my eyes
and I don't really know how appropriate it was, or how good it was. This is what I
managed to get onto paper through my grief induced torpor...

---

My sister gave me my first niece when I was only 8 years old. I remember being so excited about
being an uncle at such a young age. My own uncles were old enough to be parents to me, so I had
no idea that I could be so little and still be one of these special people with a niece.
I bragged to my classmates when she got here. They were merely little kids, but me, I was
"Uncle Matt". And my little brother, at 4 years old, was amazingly enough to be called "Uncle Sam".

Well, as little kids start to talk, the words almost never come out right at first. My sister,
as a small child, had tried to call my grandmother "Mama Murrell". That became "Mama 'Rell" when
she would say it. Tara named me "Uncle Mash You". Her sister Meredith would later call me
"Uncle Match You". I thought it was adorable.

Having a younger brother, I knew how destructive they could be! Toys and prized possessions were
never safe with the little monster on the loose in my room! But Tara was altogether different.
She was soft and sweet and so even-tempered. She was careful and gentle with things and people,
as far as I knew. One day, I showed Tara my favorite toy at the time, a little robot I had made from
a Styrofoam cup. That's the day I found out a baby was a baby, no matter how pretty or soft or
gentle. When I shoved it in her face, "Look Tara! Look!", she promptly ended any ideas I had in mind
about keeping the hideous little robot any longer... She smashed it and giggled at me. If my little
brother had done this, I would have been furious, but Tara's laugh was rare and infectious. I just
laughed along with her, tossed it in the trash, and we went to play with sturdier store-bought toys.

Tara was so many "firsts" in so many lives. In my grandmother's life, she was the first great
grandchild. To my mother and father, the first grandchild. To my sister, her first baby. To myself
and my brothers and sister-in-law, she was the first niece. To my other nieces and nephews, she
was the first and eldest of them. She was the first baby girl in our immediate family in many years.
She was everyone's little angel. Not only was she a beautiful child, she was also so smart, so
patient, so affectionate when cuddled. She was a dream come to life for all of us. I loved that
lady so much. I never ever thought she would be the first in the family to be taken away in this
most heinous manner. This world is sometimes so cruel. Perhaps it didn't deserve to have her.

This is much too short to even scratch the surface of what she meant to me. I am so happy to have
all my nieces and nephews. They are my special gifts.

Mama 'Rell and her sister, our Aunt Rebecca have recently gone to heaven. I know those two and all
the others, Uncle George, Fred Montalvo, Granddad Patrie, Grandmom Patrie, and all those who had
gone on before Tara came to us, are holding her and loving her. She is in the presence of peace and
light and will forever be in happiness and bliss. Our angel really is an angel now, and will watch
over us with all the others. She was so happy when she was here, she can only be even more so now.

We love and miss you, our precious Tara.

MMP January, 2001