My sister Wanda was not just my only sister, she was my very best friend. She held my hand on my first day of school. She taught me how ride a bike, drive a car, and how to not take myself for granted. She was my matron of honor when I got married. We had such big plans of amusement parks, road trips, and just being silly together when and if her children ever grew up. She was diagnosed with breast cancer in July 2001 and they told us she had at most 6 weeks to live. I cried in the hospital chapel and asked God why. I grew up to believe that God doesn't give you more than you can handle, and I knew 6 weeks was not enough time. After all she was only 44 and had 4 children, two of who were still at home. Well between her determination to live, and my relentless praying, she lived until she couldn't hang on any longer and quietly passed away that following May. Losing my father several years before on Christmas Eve, I thought once a year had passed and the first holidays without her that I would do better. I had learned to hide my sadness and only cry when I was alone, and after a few years I was able to share some of my feelings with my Mom, but I tried to be careful because she had lost her child after all. This past April, my Mom unexpectedly passed away and now my grief is back two-fold. She should be here with me to go through my parents home and all that was their lives. I need her to tell me it will be okay. I need her to talk to late at night when the rest of the world sleeps. No matter how I try, I just can't seem to move past the gut-wrenching pain that has existed since she took her last breath as I was holding her hand. I just wish there was someone, somewhere that could tell me how to get past this. Someone, somewhere who could give me the unconditional love and acceptance as she did.