Today would have been Rick's 36th birthday and all I can think is how in just a few short years us younger siblings will begin to surpass him in age. That's just not how it's supposed to be. Women aren't supposed to be widowed in their early 30s. 13-year-old girls aren't supposed to cry themselves to sleep because they miss their father. 5-year-old boys aren't supposed to look at the sky when they talk to their Daddy. Fathers aren't supposed to feel guilty for surviving 3 heart attacks. Mothers aren't supposed to look back on a miraculous birth and feel so much pain in their heart because the life they brought in to this world was taken away unexpectedly.
It's been over a year and I still cry often, usually close to important days, but it's not usually for my loss. It's for them. As a sister I miss my brother, but as a wife, a child, and a parent, my heart is broken for everyone whose lives were effected on a whole different level from mine. My loss can never compare to what they must experience on birthdays, anniversaries, or even the first day of school.
They say time heals all wounds but losing a loved one at 34 surely leaves a few big, gaping scars.