Twenty years ago today, my sister-in-law Emily died. She was 27.
I wanted to dedicate today’s blog post to her, to write her a letter, to let her know how much she meant to me, how much I miss her, and how much my children (her nieces)–who only know her through stories and photos–would have adored her.
But I can’t seem to do it. The emotion is still so raw, the shock of her being gone still so real. Even now, writing about how I can’t write about her, I am crying uncontrollably. I can barely see my words through the blur.
So, instead, I am going to offer up a link from a blog post I wrote in 2012, titled “Thinking of Emily”, which tells a little bit about what happened in the Fall of 1994. The story of what happened to Emily begins in paragraph four of the post.
Please read it.
There is comfort in knowing that for a moment, anybody who reads the story will be with us, her family and friends, thinking of Emily, envisioning her, on this terrible, horrible anniversary day.
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