30 Rocks.

Today would have been my sisters 30th birthday if she hadn't of floundered at 26, and left. To be honest my primary emotion at this time is to be ever so thankful that i got to grow up having a sister and knew her for those 26 years. I'm not one to claim that she was the most wonderful person, she would delete peoples numbers from her phone if they did not reply to a text. But to me she was a really calming person, and you can never have enough of them around.

When i was a teenager i would go across to her room and fall sleep on her bed in the afternoons whilst she went about her life around her room. She was also incredibly strong and never complained about her own health or trials. She didn't have much money, but she diligently worked away to support herself and Leo, and when Leo was born she had contractions all night, and then politely called me in the morning at 8am to ask if i was busy that day, and if not would i mind taking her to the hospital. Leo was born 2 hours later without a swear word, scream or any lack of dignity from my sister. She was too late for any pain relief.

I know these stories probably seem boring and irrelevant, facts about some dead girl that not many other people really knew, but through compiling thousands of these stories together, you can find my sister. I cant say i don't miss her, but if i could have a choice between 26 years with her, or never feeling this pain, of course having her would win hands down. I'm not one to lecture, but be grateful for everyone around you as we are great at making subtle 'rules' for why we and those we love around us wont die, 'I'm too young', 'he's in good health', 'She's really careful', but really anyone could be gone in the next hour. When people die we say, 'but they were going to get married', they had so much potential', 'they will never have kids now' but this is based on a premise that everyone gets to live to old age. This is not true. So for me, its important to live my life appreciating each hour i have with everyone (even those annoying people) because in the end you never get enough time with anyone.

He's dead.

Cowgirls dad died.

I went into overload and wrote her a brilliant letter advising her of my wisdom on grief, and the best plan of action to cope. Luckily for her i started crying towards the end (thank God) and in what i consider a brilliant quirk of brain ordering, screwed it up and wrote a list of what i really wanted to say but couldn't:

I asked Xss the other day as we walked past the house where he and little Rich used to live* in Norwich, if he felt dead people somewhat remained in the places they used to live. He felt this was silly, and i guess rationally so do I. But i guess what i do want to believe is that somewhere in this world there is a special place that is anchored to the person who has died, because otherwise all is lost. The memories are starting to go, certainly the smells, their belongings, and the places the memories belong to are changing and the photos have a different hue. I'd like there to be one place where i know i could always find a closeness with my sister, but i guess it doesn't exist.

Some people would use the grave for this purpose, but that doesn't make sense to me. When we buried Rachael's ashes, the undertaker kept calling this random small wooden box 'Rachael' and i had to restrain myself from reminding him that actually i knew that the plain little box he held in his hands was certainly not my sister.

At the moment, i really feel like i have lost her.

LOST: No longer possessed or retained; no longer to be found; having gone astray or missed the way; bewildered as to place, direction; not used to good purpose, as opportunities, time, or labor; wasted: being something that someone has failed to win; ending in or attended with defeat; destroyed or ruined;

* Rich committed suicide in 2005 following a spell of mental illness.