Her celebration of life is very soon, and so I had to go wading through photos to help find some to print. I knew it would be hard, but I didn’t expect to lose it completely. To be perfectly frank, I had a sobbing meltdown. Not because of the “nice” ones that made the social media cut, though.
Because of the outtakes in selfies with her partner where you can see these pure, loving glances between the two of them.
Because of the photos that show the way my sister’s face wrinkled up when she genuinely laughed.
Because of the fifteen photos in a row with her tongue out and her eyes wide with amusement.
Because of the unexpected two hundred 1-to-3 second clips her old iPhone captured when Live Photo was turned on, some of which contained her voice.
Because of the articles of clothing in the photos, some now hanging in my closet.
Because of the number of photos she took at times, trying to find one she liked, when she looked beautiful in every single one.
Because there will never be another photo with her in it.
Unmoored Sister 