Nine months

Nine months and the pain is fresh as though it were yesterday.

And now every nineteen will give way to the twentieth and the awful days in the hospital watching my sister trapped in limbo.

The sense of helplessness and grief is overwhelming ... but to give into the tears feels like it means falling into a well of despair with no ladder to climb to get out.

So, the tears sit perched in my eyes, clouding my vision, clinging to my eyelashes, and my heart breaks into tiny pieces, over and over again.

When is this supposed to get better?