Three years ago, today, my sister died.
I know now that the raw pain I felt then has not lessened. It won't. I will not get over this or become accustomed. I have learned and continue to learn to live with the loss, but the loss doesn't go with time. If anything, as time passes, I hate that the distance between now and then grows. That there are all these places I've been, she knows nothing of, and events she hasn't been part of, and conversations that I can't have with her. A friend who lost his brother far too young told me that knowing he has "grown" as a person, learned so much from that loss, is as nothing compared to the loss. Well, that's where I am. And where I will always be. I have no doubt I have learned much about life and death. I am much less concerned about what people think. I am much more concerned about my family and spending time with them. I am not afraid of death and I mean to enjoy my life.
And I am lonely. Lonely in a very particular way. Not lacking for love or friends. Do you stop being a sister, because you no longer have a sister?