I am three days into the second year of my existence without my little sister. I spent her death anniversary with our parents and her former partner at a lake we went to every year as a family growing up. I had never been to this place without her, and the fact of her absence exacerbated the pain in my heart.
I have trepidation about the second year. No longer can I say “it’s the first time I ____ without my sister.” Now it is just… the way things are. Another of the rest of my ____ without my sister. But I suppose it ultimately doesn’t matter how I feel about entering this second year, because I can do nothing about the steady passage of time.
So here I come.
Unmoored Sister 