Today is the 22nd anniversary of my sister's death.
In one more year, she will be dead for as long as she was alive.
She was eight years older than I... so already I've lived without her longer than I lived with her.
It is so strange to arrive at the point where you don't miss someone anymore.
I used to wonder what it would be like if she were still alive. Would she have moved with me when I went to college, where we would have shared an apartment? Maybe she would have finished college too.
I don't wonder any of that any more.
Even now that I'm dating Mr. B -- I don't even wonder what she would think of him. If she would like him. While I'm anxious for my parents, my nieces and nephews and other relatives to meet him... I don't even pretend to want my sister's approval. But I know she'd like him. Are ya kidding?!
It really stinks that she's not a part of my life in any way.