One Year Ago
Do you remember our talks? I spent most of the day thinking about you and our short time together.
You are always in my thoughts, one way or another; whether at work or at home, I see, think, or do something that reminds me of you. But today, on the anniversary of your death, I pulled together images and reread the posts from those days.
And I have come to a conclusion that we were greedy to try and keep you around. We kept giving you drugs, sticking you with needles, and running test after test in the hopes that we could fix whatever ailed you.
We clung to any hopeful word; the promise of a brighter tomorrow was always just around the corner. We greedily hung on to those wishes, ignoring your physical deterioration and, what is only now evident to me, the increase of your discomfort.
As I sorted through the hospital pictures, your pain screamed at me; I do not know how I missed it. I am so, so sorry.
This does not mean your life was without purpose; its purpose was simply different than the average person. I have not yet gleaned that purpose, but I have a few ideas:
We may have been blessed with you in order to teach us about love. The true meaning of love is hidden from most people and can only be revealed in the eyes of your children.
You might have been sent to us to teach us about the true meaning of loss.
Perhaps you were meant to give us strength; before you, we would not have had the strength to withstand all that we have been through.
But what if you weren’t meant for us all? What if your purpose is somehow tied to your sister?
Whatever the purpose, it will not be in vain. You will not be forgotten. When we see each other again, I will have tales to tell you (everyone else has heard them all. Twice).
Also, I want to hear what happened after the last time we talked.