Tomorrow will mark the one year anniversary of my beloved grandmother’s death. I had been holding it together fairly well, right up until dinner last night when my father asked if I’d spoken to my sister. It seems that my younger sibling has planned a graveside memorial that I’d not been invited to. Rather than point out that I had no knowledge of the event planned I shrugged it off, refusing to draw attention to the fact that my sister and I have not spoken in over eight months. In our family, my sister and I not speaking is more the norm than not. We’ve gone years without communicating so these eight months haven’t fazed me at all. Our not speaking has bothered others more than it has ever bothered either one of us. I readily admit that I have resented my sister’s presence since I was four years old and the old people brought her home from the hospital. Despite my insistence that they take her back to where they found her, they refused and my life, as it should h