And so, Sara has passed and still I have no words. I know she'd say "just write!" but I've never been very good at that. Not like she is... was.
I have a hard time referring to loved ones who have died in the past tense. They are still loved. They are precious. They are beautiful, and so on and so forth. Sara still is... in my heart. On my wrist.
But twitter seems silent without her. Soon her blog will become still. The Missing will continue.
I scrawled out this quote because my phone refused to copy it earlier today, and I was going to type it out for a post on Sara's wall. I'll sign off with it here, because I've managed to stare at my screen for an hour and still haven't come up with an ending. It's not my neat hand writing by any stretch of the imagination. The pen was scratchy. But it looks as raw as I feel and I don't have the way with words that many do.