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The Greatest Loss

Four Months ago, today. My heart was ripped from my chest and shattered into a million pieces. So many regrets, so many of the phrases circling my brain: "I should have", "Why didn't I?", "I wish I had" and so on.

I was so afraid to touch you during your cancer journey, because you were in so much pain and so fragile. I wish I had touched you anyway. I didn't hug you enough because I was afraid I would break you. Now I wish I had hugged you anyway. I didn't stay long enough, because you were so tired and your husband didn't like us being there. Now I wish I had stayed anyway. I was afraid to say something that would make you afraid of dying, but now I wish I had said those words anyway. I wanted to be strong for you, so I held back my tears, and pretended everything was okay. I wish I had cried anyway.

I've had a lot of trauma in my life, you name it, I've experienced it. But this, by far, is the worst. I thought when I was bullied and beat up in middle school, that was the worst. I thought when my high school crush didn't return my affection, that was the worst. I thought when my sweet and loving college roommate killed herself, that was the worst. I thought when my marriage ended in divorce, that was the worst. I thought when I got diagnosed with Crohns and could never eat donuts again, that was the worst. I thought when Shyra's husband was spreading lies about by family, threatening my parents and refusing to pay Shyra's medical bills, that was the worst. When during a road trip to Arizona, I got E. Coli from the salad I ate at the Grand Canyon and almost died. There's plenty more trauma I have experienced, (feel free to ask me over coffee), but you get the point I'm trying to make. Of all the awful things I have experienced (which don't get me wrong, the good way outweighs the bad), this is by far the greatest loss of all. Having to watch my sister fight for her life so violently in the hospital, and then see the light leave her eyes. To watch her breathe her last breaths, while she held on so hard to the life she wanted to keep living, that was by far THE WORST.

I want to shout to the heavens, "Enough already! Four months is long enough. Bring her back to us!" Instead I wake up each day with more of my heart ripped away, as I try to heal, but fail miserably. Each day the loss gets heavier. Each day that goes by without hearing your voice, seeing your face, hearing your laugh, the grief worsens and the tears escape without permission. A life without a loved one is not a life at all. I am so angry. Why did the sweetest person on this planet have to die? Shyra, you had so much potential for a great life, such a big heart to do so many great things, and the only one in our family who really knew how to hug. I miss you. I need you. Please come back.

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