Today I was at the girls' house trying to organize the stuff we still need to bring home to our house. I randomly was going through a box of Jeanne's things when I found a framed picture of Jeanne, Mike, K and I. It was at the Weeping Radish German brew pub in the Outer Banks, NC. We all have huge smiles and a beer in our hands. Mike has his arm around me. I immediately started sobbing.
I have no idea why these moments of grief still sneak up on me. Being in their house is still so hard, yet comforting at the same time. It's empty of most things now, but it still feels like them.
The picture is now on our mantel. I hope I can look at it one day without crying. The strange thing about grief is that I long for the time that I can see pictures, think of them without the tears, but at the same time I don't want to get to the point that it doesn't hurt. I don't want to forget them. I want them to know how much we miss them and are devastated by their death. Not just because of how this has effected the girls, but how much we miss them as individuals.
I just miss Jeanne. I want her back. I want my sister.