Fear manifested itself as a physical presence that
seemed to dominate the public sphere. Time almost stopped. Even without
confirmation I could sense that something had gone terribly wrong.

During the prayers of the day, there was one less “amen”.

Instead of hating, my heart cries mercy! Mercy on me! Mercy on me! Mercy on me!

My sister will die over and over again for the rest of my life. Grief is forever. It doesn't go away; it becomes a part of you, step for step, breath for breath. I will never stop grieving Bailey because I will never stop loving her. That's just how it is. Grief and love are conjoined, you don't get one without the other. All I can do is love her, and love the world, emulate her by living with daring and spirit and joy.

Raw anguish slithers through my brittle bones as the deathly call rots the air. Who murdered you old friend? The forest has no words to identify the hand, only erratic echo.

Love built on pain-the kind that lasts: whatever you love can be taken away from us at any moment but the loss of what we love belongs to us forever.