Four Years
It surely mustn't be the case that September is the worst month for heartache, but this September is another data point for the heartache theory.
I've been told that I ought not grieve for the whole world, but I still find that hard. Especially this September.
My heart breaks for my friends experiencing pain and loss; I can imagine what it is like to lose someone I love, because I have, and so I want to hold my friends and tell them they are loved. Their loss has brought back fresh tears and recovered wounds not fully healed.
I am still able to, at any time or place, relive the exact moment I found out my little sister had been killed. It causes that same ache it caused four years ago. The only difference between now and then is that I no longer carry that ache with me wherever I go.
I miss my sister dearly, but four years ago I would have yelled at anyone who tried to suggest that the ache would leave me for as long as it does.
I've also stopped sharing every story about her that pops into my head, and there are thousands of such stories to fit each situation.
The stories still occur to me and I still want to share Melissa with someone, but people have tired of my sisterly stories. My "reminds me of one time Melissa and I..." stories.
People don't like to be reminded that death is more than Hollywood fiction, that it can really happen to someone so young and full of life, to someone we know and love.
I've stopped sharing her, and so have become surrounded by those who never knew her and likely never will.
Which breaks my heart all over again.
