It feels weird to reference my sister as a saint, because she was certainly not, but it’s cutesy and incorporates the holiday and it’s what my dad calls it so let’s go with it.
It’s been two years since my little sister died. I miss her more than I ever thought possible. (We used to say “I miss yo face” so that seems appropriate here). I remember how two years ago I didn’t know what this kind of grief felt like. Funerals were sad and made me think about mortality but they didn’t really signal a shift- a rift- in the rest of my life. I have been altered. Now, when I think about the death of someone I love, I am terrified. I’m not certain I can stand being pulled apart and put back together again because pieces go missing when you do that.
A friend said to me earlier this year that you never stop grieving, but you do find a place in your life for that grief. That is so accurate for me. It feels like I carry my grief with me and it colors how I view the world, how I react to people, what I choose to surround myself with.
Today is no easier than this day was last year. (Why is it so beautiful outside?! I’m almost offended by the fact that the weather doesn’t match my mood). I am exhausted and my eyes burn as if there is sand in them. It’s funny what your body seems to know that sometimes you don’t. But the truth is that I am here because of her. My priorities have changed and I have decided to live my dream and take chances and surround myself with really good people because life is short. She would have loved it here on this future farm.
If you are out tonight please toast to my forever little sister and her spunk, her daredevil attitude, her smarts, and all of the many many people who love(d) her. She is missed more than she could have possibly imagined. (Also be careful and be safe and take care of yourself.)