5a.m. and I was awake. Today marks one year since my sister, Dixie, died. I got up, tears welling and spilling and coursing down my cheeks. Sitting in my old familar chair, I thought about my sister and how much I love her and how much I miss her. You know how different we were in many ways and yet we had this fierce loyal love. I'll put a couple of old posts for you new readers so you can see Dixie. Actually...just go to Archive list and they are in June 2016.
It has been my experience that the first year after losing someone is the hardest. Our daily lives are marked with little familiar rituals/traditions/habits and they are no longer carried out. There are no daily phone calls (or towards the end even more!)...no birthday greetings...no Holiday celebrating...no recipe exchanges...no laughing...no sharing of confidences...no weather reports...no telling to buy something on HSN...no frustration...no bossiness. No just ordinary living and sharing of life.
That simplicity and routine and joy and comfort of sharing just plain old life is gone.
But is it really gone? Do I bemoan the things that once were and miss out on the things that are? Is she close?
Yes. I believe she is.
That makes those things once shared, and now past, sweeter in memory. It makes me cherish family and friendships even more. It increases my belief in angels. It strengthens my testimony and increases my resolve to live as best I can and claim those Gospel promises of families are forever.
Dixie loved poems and quotes. She would have had this in her collection....
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