Thinking about my Sissy

Not a day passes that I don’t wonder about how it would have been to have you here with us. Not a day goes by that I do not miss you, I miss you every day. I wish everyday you could be here and that you weren’t taken from us. And as I write and portray characters are red heads it makes me ache more to be able to point to you and say this awesome character is about her. Instead I keep it bottled up that the reason I always have a red haired character is because of my sister up in heaven. I pains me to keep it bottled up that the reason I dye my hair red is in memory of you. 

I know you know that we miss you, and I know that you are constantly watching over us, and I know that one day we’ll be reunited, and until then I wait. I write and wait. Writing seems to ease the pain and ease the heartache but some days nothing seems to help except to write about you and tell the world about that dreaded day.

And when all else fails I clutch the big white bear and just pray and pretend that the bear is you. The big white bear, the tiny white bear, and the brown bear all came to be mine at your funeral as they were gifts from relatives. Not sure how a bear was supposed to help an 8 year old child cope with the lose of her sister, but they thought it would ease the pain, it never did. They were just constant reminders of placing your tiny white casket in the ground beside our uncle, and of your gray heart shaped tombstone that rest above you. 

We went and saw you a few weeks back, and I hid my tears from my boyfriend, trying to be strong. Knowing I wanted to burst so despiratly into tears, that have been building up these last few days.


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