You died today. I know they told me you were sick, but I didn't expect their next piece of news to be death.
Remember your wedding? I hated that church, but it was your new husband's, and you wanted out of yours. I thought you deserved something prettier, but you just wanted to marry your love.
I still remember the time you kissed me. I didn't realize then what it meant exactly. I do now. It took me until we were adults to realize it. I wasn't often allowed to stay the night. I didn't know why, I knew your brothers and dad made me uncomfortable, but I thought it was because they were never home during the days when we would play in your yard while our moms smoked cigarettes and drank coffee in the kitchen. But I realized far too late why...
I should have known when you were the one who taught me to hide in plain sight and be completely silent so they walk right by. But I was younger, I never thought you teaching me how to survive bullies meant anything more.
You left behind a family you created all on your own. We haven't spoken in so many years, I doubt we would have recognized each other even though we share blood.
I'm sorry I didn't know to protect you. But I'm more sorry I never told you I figured it out so we could be open about it. And more than anything, I'm most sorry I left and stayed gone, and now I'll never hug you again.