I was standing at the counter between the dining room and kitchen of my parents’ house, the counter where the phone and calendar and address book sit.
I glanced down at the calendar, upon which my mother lists everyone’s birthdays and ages.
Nov. 26: Laura – 57
My chest instantly tightened and my eyes filled. I blinked hard and tried to keep breathing, talking, carrying on conversation with my parents while drums pounded in my ears.
Nov. 26 is my sister’s birthday. Was. It isn’t her birthday anymore. Is it? She won’t ever reach 57. That’s what stabbed me so hard. The wrongness of that number.
One part of me wanted to erase it, that 57. The other part of me just doesn’t know what to do.