I wake up and it’s October but Anita is still gone. I know for sure this can’t be real life. The days have been a blur but the dream- or nightmare, rather- seems to continue. We have family and friends and community support from all over come by the house and bring us food and help my mom to figure out details for the funeral. It doesn’t make much sense to me because funerals are for those who have passed away and I’ve already decided it can’t actually be my sister. Still, just in case this is not a dream, I make a bulleted list of reasons why we should hold the funeral services in Dallas, and everyone thankfully agrees.

They keep hugging me and asking me how I’m doing and I respond with the typical expected response because I don’t know what else to say as they cry and then laugh and then reminisce and then talk about memories and plans as if it is all really happening. Meanwhile, I am able to sneak upstairs and my thoughts run rampant as I sit in her room and let my emotions flow free. I go over the phone calls and the details and her belongings and bargain with the Universe that if this can please be a nightmare then when I wake up I will do everything differently.