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On 8/8/88 I was 13 years old, and I went to my weekly tennis lesson on one of the hottest days of the year. When I came home, my mom sat me down to let me know that my grandma had taken her sister, Margaret, to lunch to celebrate Margaret’s birthday. On the drive home,… Read more

Here we are, it’s September. I’m staring down the barrel of my sister’s death anniversary (also known as my birthday) next month. It will be eleven years. Eleven entire years without her humor, her guidance, her bossiness, her making me double over with laughter, unable to breathe; eleven years without knowing her opinions. We had… Read more