“That was the thing. You never got used to it, the idea of someone being gone. Just when you think it’s reconciled, accepted, someone points it out to you, and it just hits you all over again, that shocking.” ~ Sarah Dessen, The Truth About Forever
Last week marked the nineteenth year since my sister died. She’s been gone almost as long as she was alive. I am sure there are some people who wonder if I still miss my sister, or if I still grieve for her. Admittedly, I no longer think of her every single day like I used to do for the first five years after she died, but I still miss her. Of course I still miss her. Birthdays and holidays are difficult. Whenever things are bad, I miss her. Whenever things are really good, I miss her. When there is something funny to share, I miss her. When I am depressed, I miss her. When I see something that she would have liked or even hated, I miss her. Whenever I hear certain songs from the 90s, I miss her. Whenever I think of my childhood, I miss her. So, yes, I still miss her. I do not miss her in the every day kind of way, but I miss her in the important kind of way – in the way that you feel empty in parts of yourself, like missing a limb or an eye, and you can still go on with your life, but you are forever changed.