Abby

Nineteen years have passed since the accident that took my dear sister's life.  I feel a profound sadness each year around this time, not because I don't know if I will see her again (I believe I will), but because I can't help but wish I could have shared this earthly experience with her as well.

I hope to one day fully understand the meaning of eternity, because then I might also understand how miniscule this brief mortal sojourn is in the timeline of forever.  Until then I will always feel some remorse about not being able to share the joys of personal and professional accolades, graduations, ordinances, nieces and nephews, and other triumphs. Similarly, I wish that we could share in defeats and disappointments, give one another comfort, and reminisced about times gone by.

I imagine these earthly experiences will mean very little in the grand scheme, but with my human limitations for comprehending eternity, I still find myself feeling cheated.

I used to think about Abby daily, then it became every other day, then weekly, then monthly, until now where I only find I think about her a couple times a year. I feel guilty sometimes, but time limitations, the distraction of work, and the (hopefully) worthy pursuit of family don't leave time even to feel guilt.  I hope Abby knows how much I love her and miss her.