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There isn’t a word for this. There isn’t a way to wrap it up in a box with a bow and give it to you. There isn’t a way to make it pretty.

You see, it’s a black hole in my heart. It isn’t something that I want to spread to anyone else. Not because I don’t want to share, but rather, I don’t want anyone to else to feel this sadness, anger, grief, or frustration. I don’t think they could handle it. I don’t think they would like it. I don’t think they would understand it. I don’t think they deserve it.

Every day of my life I think about her, my sister Leslie, who died twelve years ago this February 10th; she was 14 years old. There was 11 years between us and she was my baby. Every February I reallllllly think about her.

• I think about how young she was and how we take our years for granted.
• I think about how much she smiled and how little we smile.
• I think about her potential and how we take ours for granted.
• I think all the things that she’ll never get to experience and how we live each day not seeking out new experiences because we have excuses.
• I think about the anger of why was she taken so young.
• I think about all the people spending their lives focused on such utter BULLSHIT and not enough time focusing on the important things in life: helping people, loving people, spreading love and positivity, moments of adventure, relationships filled with love and passion, productivity towards things that help our world and many, many other important matters.

I cannot bring her back. No amount of sadness or tears will ever bring her back and I accept that, but I do not have to accept life any other way that how I want my life to be. I want my life to serve a purpose and I want to use my pain to inspire people to get off of their asses to live. That would make her smile.

Here’s the story of her death that I shared in 2011. Use it to inspire whatever you want your own life to be: http://chronicle.augusta.com/content/blog-post/augustagolfgirl/2011-10-25/heartbreak-death-sister-and-birth-new-woman