I often feel like I see her, like there is some sign that she’s there, that she’s okay, that she’s happy. I’m not sure why I see that so often in the sky – in the vivid colors of the sunset, in the sunbeams that break through the clouds, in that full moon as it was rising last night through the large windows of my class, and then later as I watched it through my windshield on the drive home. Maybe I’m always looking now, and that’s why I see them. Maybe I see them because I want to know that she’s there.
Other times I’m reminded that she’s not here. This is one of those days. I cannot go back in time and change anything to make the outcome different, to fix this hole in her family, in our family, where she just simply isn’t there.