Ghostwriter
I am not a writer. I am a pianist. She spent hours creating and writing and I spent the hours practicing the piano. I still have everything she wrote. I have her journals. I have her digital footprints. I have her cute cards. I have reminders everywhere I look. I am still living her dream as best as I can for her.
But today, I am beyond sad. I built the snowman. I published her thoughts. I followed her plan. Then I stopped to play her a song. I don’t really know if she can hear that music. I didn’t just lose a sister, a friend, a brat, a joy, I lost my audience. Yes, I play every day and ever day I wonder, who am I playing for? Will mine be the same fate as hers. Will it someday be just too much to handle?
Perhaps and today I hope she can hear the songs I will play and she will know I am not letting her go unnoticed. I carry her spirit.
