How can she really be gone?
It's almost been a year.
She was 35. A bright, vivacious person who injected energy into everything she did, especially into her roles as a wife and a mommy to 4 beautiful children.
Breast cancer. I still almost can't bear to actually speak the words. Breast cancer killed my sister. I actually feel like I'm speaking a foreign language when I say it.
My big sister was my best friend. She was there for me as a sister, a protector and in countless other ways. She was there when I couldn't get pregnant. She was there when I finally did. She got to see her little nephew for just 4 short months before she died.
I was there when she was diagnosed. I was there for the first chemo treatment and the last one. I was there for the great news of her being "cancer free". We celebrated as only sisters and best friends can. Then, I was there when the standard follow-up scans showed large tumors in both lungs. I was there when they said "terminal" and gave her 6 months to a year. I was there when 6 weeks later she died, leaving a hole in my life that I fear won't be filled by anything or anyone.
I was there as her children cried for their mommy. I was there to hold them and rock them and try to heal the hurt for them. They lovingly say I'm the closest thing to their mommy they have now. I feel so inadequate to fill that role in any capacity. She was honestly amazing. Her list of talents, hobbies and accomplishments would fill this and a thousand pages.
She died. And I miss her. More than I thought it was possible. Some days, I still pick up the phone to call her, only to get half-way and realize she isn't there to answer and my heart breaks all over again.