It’s been two years, three months today.
When I am with people now, I am the one who they see and converse with. I carry the name, reputation, history, and stories. I realize very often how much I depended on her. She was always friendly, kind, interested in people, and could muster a giggle or laugh. Going somewhere with her was usually comfortable because I knew I could depend on her to, so to speak, represent us. She was approachable, unlike me, I think. People liked to see her and immediately start up a conversation about something or anything. l’ll admit, I liked having her around when we went into social situations. She brought me comfort and security. I appreciated her for being the tip of the spear in social settings. It was something I never took for granted and it is something that I very much miss now.
I was usually proud to have her with me. Not in a mean or silly way, but in a sincere way. I was proud of her. I liked to know that others liked her. Yes, she did deflect conversation away from me so that was nice, but I appreciated her for being someone that others liked and wanted to be around. She made others feel good, and she never put anyone down or belittled them in conversation. It made me feel good to be with her when we were out. Sometimes when we weren’t together, but we could send eye-signals across the room and know that everything was okay.
In a few weeks, I will be taking another trip – the kind she would have liked. And my parents adored her, and it always made me feel so good to know that. And now when I visit my parents, I have nothing to show them – nothing to be proud of like her. She could carry on with them for hours, unlike me.
I don’t know. There are so many things I miss. This is one of them – having her out with me. I’m sad that I can’t have her with me to share with you. I know you loved her being around. I did, too. I still can’t believe it.