Today my sister would have been 32. I don't think of her often, the way I did once. I always think of her today, her birthday. The years tick by and I count them the way I did when I lost my grandfather. I count them against things. He died the year I was graduating high school, right about the time I had the measles. I wasn't yet 18. Matt wasn't yet born. My whole life has happened since then. She died when she was 21, on the cusp of her adult life. Ian wasn't even a year old. I hated my job then... but loved my friends. Ian's whole life has happened since then.

It's been 20 years since my grandfather died, and 10 since I lost my sister. To think of either of them is to feel acutely the loss of time... the time I could have had with them, the time I let go by like it was something I'd have later. I'm happy that, on most days, I don't take the time for granted anymore. Sometimes, because that's the nature of what we are... but I try to remember. It can be the difference of just a day, just an hour... just a moment.