¶ … Death The most difficult thing I have ever lived through has been my sister's death. Five years ago, when she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer we had about five months left to be with her before she was gone. I know that death is never easy but I never knew it could be so hard. Jenny was eight years older than I was, and I had grown very accustomed to her being a part of my life every single day since I can remember. There was nothing to prepare me for her death.

The day she died was weird for all of us but I remember telling myself that it had really happened but I did not feel like it had really happened. I knew that I was probably in some sort of shock and I remember lying on my bed in the dark waiting for it to hit me. It really did not hit me until I had to go to work. It had been a week since I had gone anywhere or done anything and once I left my insulated world, it felt like it was not my world anymore. I remember I just started crying driving to work.

A tried to be strong and brave at work and I think I made it until lunchtime and then I could not stand it any longer. All morning long I could only think about the things that I would never get to tell my sister again. We always shared funny work stories. She knew Greg the geek that is in the cubicle next to me always clears his throat every 20 minutes. She also knew about...

Then there was Sheila, who was what I referred to as the "information society" because she knew every piece of gossip about everyone in our office. When I saw these people, and I heard Greg clearing his throat and Sheila whispering across the hall, I realized that I would never be able to tell Jenny any more stories about them.
A guess I was really sad for a long time. Looking back, I was really depressed. Jenny died in January and I can remember in June of that year, I was still in a very dark place. I remember feeling tired all the time. I would come home from work some days and just go straight to bed. Sometimes I would really be sleepy and sometime I would not. I would just lay there looking at everything in the dark. I would watch the glowing green numbers on the digital clock change until I drifted off. I was filled with anger and there was absolutely nothing to do about it.

It was just as dark with my parents and as hard as we tried to get on with life, it was just so hard. In one way I thought it could never be the same because one of us was missing and I would get mad at them for trying to be cheerful sometimes. In another way I hated myself because I could not be more open with them about how I felt. I know they had to be feeling at least as bad as I felt, if not worse,…