My heart aches as I move through your house. You are everywhere... on the walls, the shelves, and the windowsills. Your picture frames hold the history of the roads you ran and the people you loved.
Your books speak of your quiet passions of love, acceptance, and nurturance. They were your solace and your comfort. They hold the words of kindness and gentleness that mirror your soul.
There is an ease and simplicity in your decorating style. It is varied but cohesive; deliberate, yet whimsical. It's happy, light and tranquil. It's you. Everywhere.
In spite of my sadness, I feel the comfort that lives in every corner and crevice, as if it appeared by magic; but no. I know that it was planted very carefully and deliberately by the spirit who still lives here.
The path that you have carved is well worn and clearly marked. It's a path that leads to love... wild, ferocious and unapologetic; fearless and without limits.
This house holds the convictions of your heart. It is open and listening with gentle compassion. It is a mirror of you. The perfect reflection of simplicity, elegance and everything I've ever wanted to resemble: my big sister... my hero. ~ rebecca mcauliffe National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 800-273-8255