What really died on June 12

My sister died on June 12, but that's a who, not a what.

What died?
The hope I could have a healthy relationship with her.  It was the same as with my mother.  I mourned, and still do, mourn what could have been.

The trust I had in who I thought she was died.  There were so many things I thought she was doing, but now I know it was never true.  Well some parts, maybe.  I'm not a naive person and I'm not really trusting, either, but I couldn't believe some of the things I discovered.  Things that will be between me and her until I join her.

Hurt also died.  Not the hurt of my grief - that is still an oozing, crusting over scab.  Some of the emotional hurt.  She would lash out if she got backed into a corner.  This started as a child.  We had some doozies of  fights.  When I could drive, off I would go.

What didn't die was the peace I have.  I am really okay she is gone.  I don't like it.  I don't like she didn't make it to 45 years old.  I don't like she didn't take care of herself.  I don't like she didn't take care of the house.  I don't like she didn't take care of our father.  Some people will argue that point, but it is unfortunately true.  She took care of some stuff.

But I have peace and faith.  And that will never die.