Yesterday would’ve been my sister’s 36th birthday. She was only 29 years old when she lost her fight to Lupus. I always remember her, although since the time of her death, I can only speak of her in writing. My friends know very little about her—some people didn’t even know I once had a sister—because it simply breaks my heart all over again to talk about her. I can’t even watch videos or pictures of her without feeling torn inside. I don’t think it’ll ever be possible to heal.
I used to dream of my sister almost every day. She looked very much alive and happy as if nothing ever happened. Occasionally I’d dream of the time when she was still sick, battling her illness, and those dreams were always sad…of course. I rarely dream of her now. I wish I could. Losing a sister, your only sister, is unimaginably painful. I guess I have accepted it, sort of, but never healed.
You were an incredible person, everybody’s best friend, and we love you and will never forget you. May you continue to rest in peace wherever you are.