By Savanna Monroy 
Winter is already dark and grey without the pain of saying goodbye to a loved one.
Oh sweet girl, so small, playing down the street before everything changed. You needed to cherish those last moments of innocence, those last moments before you were left with the lingering taste of death.
If I had the chance to go back to that February, oh the things I would tell you. I would tell you, the innocent and younger version of myself that everything is going to be okay. I would tell you that it is okay to cry and that it is okay to tell people that you are sad. I would tell you that the picture you drew to take to the hospital was beautiful and that although it went into a casket instead of a sterile hospital wall, that your sister still saw it.
That little girl, crying in front of her older sister’s lifeless body needed to know a few things.
I would tell you that although the next time you saw her and her body was lifeless, she was still there. You needed to know that although you could not feel her warmth, her love was still surrounding you. I would tell you that your older sister had simply gone ahead to do the work of angels and prepare you for when it becomes your time to leave.
That adolescent girl, standing strong for her family needed to know a few things.
I would tell you that you do hurt just as much as everyone else. That although your sister’s voice, smell, and touch slowly disappeared from memory and you did not dream of her at night, your pain was still valid. I would hold you tight and tell you that you do not need to become a rock. The rock. I would tell you that although you were robbed of innocence, you did not need to give away your childhood as well.
Sweet girl, trying so hard to keep it together. It is okay to tear at the seams sometimes as long as you do not fall in.
I would tell you that I am yourself, but older. I would tell you that you turn out okay and that you make it through to the other side. I would tell you that you slip and fall and get back up again one million times but you must continue to get back up again as long as you live. I would tell you that life does become beautiful again. That above all those thorns you will find a beautiful flower surrounded by blue skies and a bright sun.
Little girl, you are loved, and although you have lost, you will go on to take home the win.
Photo Courtesy, Lisa Cass
by Marissa Bader 
by Lisa Ingrassia 
by Kathy Wetsell 
by Louisa Vilardi 
by Kristyna Moore 
by Joanna Weeks 
by Daphne Bach Greer 
