Sisters

I woke up thinking about Libby. Not unusual. She's on my mind as much or more even than Katie. Amy wrote about mourning the loss of "me."  I'm also mourning the loss of Libby and Libby's loss. 

Libby lost the single most important person in her world. I'm her mom. It feels pretty hard to say, but the bond between Katie and Libby was far stronger than any bond they had with anyone else. Stronger than mine (and mine is FIERCE). Stronger than Dad's (and his is TIGHT).  People ask me how it could be that my daughters are so close.  (Present tense/past tense. Meh. Life, love, and time are fluid around here. Bear with me as I slip back and forth between the two.) But my babies just were. They were close from the moment I brought Libby home from the birth center at a whopping 4 hours old, and Katie wove her hair through Libby's fingers then protested that Libby was pulling her hair "because that's what sisters do."  

Libby can't love Katie any more than I do.  But Libby was Katie's counterbalance, her confidant, her best friend, and vice versa.  Katie was justice, and Libby is fairness. Hand in hand to conquer the world. 

Libby's loss is just as valid as mine. And I have to watch her world crumble and be rebuilt just as she has to watch mine. That's a painful process for both of us.