Strangely numb today. I'm now officially older than my older sister ever got to be. I usually get excited about birthdays, but I think I'm subconsciously holding back on this one. It doesn't help that her birthday then comes four days after mine -- it sort of focuses the whole issue. She was four years older than me, and always used to say things like, "You're going to love being 27 -- that's when I learned a lot." Or, "Thirty-three is fun! Really!" Today, I start heading into years that she never got to experience. And while that makes me sad, I've also started to think that perhaps that just makes it my turn to discover and search out new ground and report back to her in my own way. It's kind of like we can make these discoveries together now. But that's a lie, too, 'cause as I typed that, I started to cry. I liked it better the old way. It's not the same. And perhaps that's an elemental, very simple portion of what grief is: it's not the same.
To end on a positive note, after Butter made her early morning walk (5 minutes away from sleeping through the night after going to bed early -- hurrah!), she came onto the bed and slept with me for a half hour. It was like her birthday present to me. "I've heard you talking about wishing I was a bed-dy dog, so I thought I'd give you this. Happy Birthday!" And it was one of the best presents ever.
Feeling sad again, so I'm going to pet the puppy and the kitties and leave on an up note.