Miss You, Sara

Today marks the two-year anniversary of my sister-in-law Sara’s tragic and untimely death. She was a phenomenal aunt to my two sons, the sister I never had, and a healing and caring soul to all she touched. She is missed every day.

Since I was young, this poem by Henry Scott Holland always resonated with me. I read it at Sara’s memorial. I miss her every day.

  

Death is nothing at all,

I have only slipped away into the next room.

Whatever we were to each other, that we still are.

Call me by my old familiar name.

Wear no forced airs of solemnity or sorrow.

Life means all that it ever meant.

Speak of me in the same easy way you always did.

Laugh, as we always laughed, at the little jokes we shared together.

Think of me and smile.

Why should I be out of mind only because I am out of sight?

I am waiting for you - for an interval--somewhere very near.

All is well.

Love you, sis. I hope to see you again someday.