I've never cared for the number seven, even though it's usually a significant number: days of the week, deadly sins, Voldemort's horcruxes, etc. But now, today, is the seventh month my sister is not here. Seven months I've gone without hearing her on the other line of a phone conversation, without a response to a goofy video, without words of encouragement when Mom is most annoying. She's not here to come by and have coffee with me. I'm actually not sure how seven months have gone by when it feels like she was just here yesterday.
I realized that it doesn't get easier to go through my days without thinking about her or missing her. Sometimes it feels like I'm going to finally be okay, but to be honest, it just gets pushed down over and over until it spills out. The other night, I was on my way home from work, and I was listening to some music she never heard of. But suddenly, I was choked up and couldn't keep my tears back. It just hurt to know we'll never ride in the same car together or hear her singing so loud. Even writing this is hard to do without tears. It's been a rough seven months. I'm trying to wade through the thickness of grief and mourning while holding on to the the joy of one more little soul to complete our family, but it gets overwhelming at times. I'm lucky that I have a handful of really great friends (long-distance and local) who understand my sorrow and are there for me, even if it's only through social media. They can't take Emily's place, but they help fill that empty space in my chest and remind me that it's okay to be sad.