In the summer of 2007 my sister was the sole casualty in an 6 car collision. Helplessly unaware, she was struck from behind while stopped at a toll booth. The back seat she once occupied, demolished.


There was no time to say good-bye or I love you, to share stories from our childhood or for her to teach me how to become a woman. I was 19 then. Impressionable, self-conscious, blissfully unaware. Meg was the opposite. The ‘master’, obnoxiously right even when wrong, impassionately aware. After a call from the hospital I laid lifeless on the kitchen floor, unable to do anything but weep and regret – a movie of memories we could have had played on repeat in my mind. People weren’t supposed to die like this.

What was next? How do you live when the one’s you love are cursed with death? Losing Meg revived my own life. I learned to treasure what I have, to pick myself up after falling, and that tears are often part of growth.