Three hours of sleep. A throat wrecked by hacking coughs of chiseled lung. Hot eyes with tears unlike the ones I've shed for fourteen days. This is the one time in my life when bronchitis is refreshing.

The last two weeks have been a blur. The loss of a sister-friend will do that to you; it is an amputation of the soul. It is losing a part of yourself that defined who you were and who you wished you could become.

I am beginning to feel the calm between the heaves. When heartache succumbs to the amnesia of time. There are actually moments now and then when I forget that life is not complete. One of my children will cry or or the dogs will bark. The randomness of life shuffles death to the side where it lurks in wait for me to glance at her picture on my shelf. Or for when I search for earrings and come across the necklace she made for me with tiny beads. In a morse code it says, 'Be the change you want to see in the world.' I reflect on how she was the change this world needed to see. And how I need to focus on becoming the friend she was, that made me feel complete.