13 years

Sweet little sister.

It’s been 13 years and I miss you just the same.

It always takes me by surprise and hits me all at once. One minute I think I’m okay and then all of a sudden it comes crashing down and I can hardly breathe.

This past month I have been walking around with this dull ache in my chest and I haven’t taken much time to think about it. My heart knows what’s coming and my body is starting to grieve your loss. I should know this by now.

I think about all these years of holding this grief and sorrow and I am struck by the way it has colored my world and infiltrated the depths of my soul.

The pain has become a part of me. I realized a long time ago that I was never going to let go of the pain of losing you, because that pain was a symbol of my deep love for you.

There are still days I cry with the same intensity as the day that you died and I am shocked. I can’t understand how the pain can still be so immense after all these years. I cry out to God for mercy and he cries with me. I feel him enter my soul and experience the burden of my pain. He is right there with me, holding my heart in his hands and it feels so good to be there.

It’s grace, it’s mercy, breathing life into my soul and healing the darkest parts of me.

I know that my relationship with God is real and oftentimes very tangible. I am thankful he draws near and gives me glimpses of himself that are indescribable. But truthfully (selfishly)? I would give it all back to you have you here. The irony of it is that I wouldn’t want to be the me that I was before your death. I would want to be the me that I am because of your death.

13 years come and gone. I miss you just the same.