madamleslie

My sister is gone.
I can't seem to get past this one small phrase.

Etre. To be. My sister is born - she exists.
Avoir. To have. My sister is mine - she enters my life.
Aller. To go. My sister is gone.

My sister is gone.

I've been through it, examined it, thought about it over and over again and it still doesn't make any sense. My sister is gone. I can't see her, talk to her, feel her, hear her, touch her, smell her... I'm flooded by memories of her and yet she is gone from all five of my senses.

I know that she is no longer afraid, no longer searching, no longer sad. She made her own destiny and in a way I envy her. So easily able to say goodbye to everyone and everything she knows. She was always looking for a home. And now she has one.

I wish I had more time with her. I'm angry because she didn't think I needed her. And now, when I need her more than ever, she is gone. I never thought the death of someone would affect me this much. But she was a part of me.

In the end ... she was stronger than me.

My sister is gone. That is all I know right now.
That is all I can say.