Libby Parham Book of Life

Hard to know what to say after a year. In many ways, it’s harder, not easier. As the memories of the past soften, I miss my sister more. I think that is only natural though. And probably positive. Holding onto the painful events of both her and my life kept me safe from grief, but it did nothing for her memory. Now as those painful parts melt away the grief grows. I know Libby never did anything in her life to intentionally harm me. But there sure was harm and pain. When you are in the thick of it, it’s hard to separate the sickness from the actions. Whether you are the victim or the perpetrator. Over the next years I will need to learn to savor the joyful memories. To keep them safe and hold them close without grief. And to not tarnish them with the negative memories in order to keep the pain at bay. Manipulating the past for my own emotional profit is the worst way to keep Libby’s memory alive! I throw these thoughts out to the universe, and perhaps out to Libby to say I’m sorry for all the times I’ve made you feel bad about yourself for something you’ve done, for some judgement I’ve made. Fear and anger were always my shield to keep heartbreak at bay. But nothing ever made either of us forget that we loved one another.